History Of AFRTS: The First 50 Years

CHAPTER 1

A TOUCH OF HOME

Ask any one who ever served overseas in the U 5.
military and he or she will tell you about the need for
anything that can boost morale in a stressful and some-
times dangerous job. World War n, Korea, Vietnam or
Iraq, the need is no different, no matter where or when.
Just as an hour of listening to a Bob Hope comedy
relieved the strain of Army life in 1941, an NCO club full
of Gls watching an NFL football game on TV does today.
Just as the doughboy was cautioned to take medicines in
the jungles of World War II, today's soldier learns about
AIDS through the media of Armed Forces Radio and
Television.

It began with a proverbial handful of G.I.'s erecting a
"Rube Goldberg" contraption to broadcast "pop music"
to their buddies in the barracks. In 50 short years it has
become a worldwide satellite radio and television system
providing G.I.'s around the globe with the sounds and
sights of home

Along the way, the "by soldiers, for soldiers" has
conceived a saga as full of folklore as any in our country's
history. It's a story of humble beginnings, of struggle, of
political intrigue. It's a story of characters, human and
animated, full of American wit and personality. It's a
story of movie stars, of big Hollywood creations and silly
little slats. Most of all, it's a story of warm and selfless
compassion, full of tragedy and joy, defeat and victory.
It's the story of the Armed Forces Radio and Television
Service (AFRTS).

In war or peace, the mission of the Armed Forces
Radio and Television Service has remained the same: to
provide a touch of home through military news and
entertainment to the United States military wherever it
has ventured. From Iceland to Antarctica, from South
Korea to German)' from Japan to Panama, AFRTS is there.

Today, AFRTS provides the most popular of America's
radio and television news, sports and entertainment
programming to Department of Defense (DoD) personnel
and their families in over 130 countries and U. S. territo-
ries worldwide. Its audiences see programs much the
same as they are broadcast in the U. S., without censor-
ship, propagandizing or manipulation.

Program owners and syndicators in the private sector
make their very valuable products available to the AFRTS
at a fraction of the cost that commercial stations would

normally pay. Many provide their programs free of
charge. The service exercises no control over the content

of this material, but it does delete commercials and
replaces them with DoD internal and public service
announcements (PSA's).

The heart of the AFRTS operation today is the Broad-
cast Center located in Sun Valley, California. Twenty-
four hours a day, seven days a week, the AFRTS Broad-
cast Center (AFRTS-BC) distributes radio programs
consisting of news, special events coverage, commentary,
music and of course, play-by-play sports. Major networks
like ABC, NBC, CBS, Mutual, National Public Radio, AP,
and UPI provide newscasts directly. Besides the excellent
entertainment programs provided by syndicators,
AFRTS-BC distributes some musical programs that the)*
produce "in-house," These include programs that present
the most popular new recordings in all musical catego-
ries. From the Broadcast Center radio and television
programming goes out worldwide by a network of
satellites, both domestic and international, for time-
sensitive programs and tape or disk shipments.

As the reader will discover, it was the very inventive
nature of the U S. serviceman himself that gave birth to
the service we know as AFRTS. As a consequence, the
dedicated men and women of AFRTS have never failed in
their mission. They resolved to deliver their "information
and entertainment" to troops in the combat theater using
uncanny creativity that was often required to get it there.

For most of those who have served in the AFRTS, their
contribution to military men and women worldwide has
enriched their own lives as well. Just as many of them
brought to AFRTS a wide range of talents, their service
experience contributed to their future careers as well,
whether in militarv or commercial broadcasting or related
fields.

Until the United States' involvement in Southeast Asia,
few AFRTS personnel had served in frontline combat
areas. Only occasionally had armed forces broadcasters
found themselves exposed to the threats of German
bombing or rocket attacks on London or a counterattack
by diehard Japanese defenders on a South Pacific island,
although the)' were always intensely aware of the action
and the threats. Those working at the Hollywood
location of AFRTS may have lacked a combat environ-
ment, however, its staff made up for this with its hard
work and commitment to the war effort. They worked
dav and night to produce the programs for the men in the
field.

At one time or another, several of those who worked at
Armed Forces Radio in Hollywood during World War II
talked about writing a film script or a novel in the manner
of M*A*S*H. No doubt about it, the clash between the
creative chaos of professional broadcasters-tumed-
soldiers and the rrulitary-tumed-broadcasters would

make for some very funny material Like in the popular

2

TV show, real-life, warm and zany anecdotes abound.

A writer for Bob Hope before the war, Sherwood
Schwartz, endured the draft, went through eight weeks of
basic training, and prepared to transfer to the Aleutian
Islands. The day before his unit was to ship out, he
received orders to report to the Armed Forces Radio
( AFR) headquarters in Hollywood. There he spent the
remainder of his military career, writing scripts for such
AFRS programs as "Command Performance" and "Mail
Call." On occasion, he'd tailor programs for specific
entertainers whom soldiers had requested to appear,
including Hope. Virtually every Hollywood personality
performed on Armed Forces Radio during the war.
Certainly, none lacked in their commitment to the war
effort.

Clark Gable was a particular case in point Respond-
ing to a request, Schwartz created for Gable and Bob
Hope a great "Mail Call" script. In it, the}' were to
exchange little black books containing the names of
eligible women. The plot would build up to a double
date. Gable would fix up Hope with Dame May Witty,
then 80 years old. In rum, Hope would match him with
little Margaret O'Brien, age 8. Just imagine these two
classic stars with such a funny bit!

Despite the script and his stellar co-performers. Gable
had to be talked into doing the show. He held a lofty
place in Hollywood stardom, yet, Schwartz recalls, this
movie giant "had an absolutely petrifying fear of a live
mike." He could perform on a stage, but "was terrified of
a microphone." His phobia asserted itself almost immedi-
ately after he came out to center stage. There before him
was the live soldier audience collected in a Hollywood
radio studio. His hand began to tremble. So badly,
according to Schwartz, that "all you heard was the script
rattling. He couldn't talk. His tongue got stuck in his
mouth. He was just terrified. Although Gable was then
the number one Hollywood star, you had to feel sorry for
the man standing there frozen."

On his part. Bob Hope later expressed wonderment
"Can you imagine a fellow who was that famous and
everything, being that nervous about being out in front of
the public?" Hope recalled how Gable's "hand was
shaking so much that I had to reach across and hold his
arm and steady him in front of the audience. There was
nothing else you could do because the radio audience
didn't know what was happening. He was just not used
to personal appearances."

To get his co-star to perform, Hope whispered to
Gable, "Clark, we're old friends, these guys love you, I
love you. There's nothing to be nervous about. Why
don't you go back and come out again?"

So, they started over. Hope held the script so that it
wouldn't rattle and gradually Gable relaxed, got into his

role and did the show. Schwartz recalled, "It was a
remarkable achievement on Bob's part. Within a minute
and a half, he was able to calm Gable down."

Even today, Schwartz remembers it as "a very funny
show."(l ) If possible, another "Mail Call" made an even
more profound impression on the writer. He was asked
to produce a program featuring great American compos-
ers performing their own works. So, he wrote a script
that would include Jimmy McHugh, Johnny Mercer,
Sammy Cahn, and the great Jerome Kem. What a cast!
But, Kem refused to do the show.

So, Schwartz called him. Kem explained that he
thought none of the young kids at the war's front would
know him because he considered himself of an older
generation. No one there would remember his song,
"Smoke Gets In Your Eyes." In response, Schwartz told
him, "My God, how could we do a show about the
greatest American songwriters without including you?"

After the call, Schwartz went to see him in person, only
to find that the songwriter had strengthened his resolve,
saying '1 tell you, I don't like to appear in public."
Schwartz hadn't realized that Kem was a very shy
person, "extremely shy." Each time Schwartz would
manage to talk him into doing the show, Kem would
change his mind again a few days later. Schwartz went
back to see him again. This time. Kern displayed a big
fever blister that he claimed developed from his nervous-
ness about appearing on the program. As uTitten, the
"Mail Call" script had Kem appearing last on the pro-
gram. Waiting backstage, with the big fever blister on his
lip, he was "nervous as can be." Finally, the announcer
introduced him to the live military audience. As he came
out to center stage and walked up to the microphone, all
the way out he received nonstop applause. According to
Schwartz, "There was a standing ovation from these men
who Kem thought had forgotten him or didn't know who
he was. He stood at the microphone and started to cry,
tears just streaming down his face. He never even said
'Thank you.' He didn't sav anything. He just walked
over to the piano~.the humblest of men, the most modest
of people, a genius, afraid nobody knew him...He just
walked over and played "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes.'"
Kern's appearance was "a beautiful story of a beautiful
man who didn't recognize his own fame."(2)

Most entertainers, of course, had no such problems in
appearing in front of audiences. W.C. Fields' deep desire
to perform for the troops produced the saddest image that
Bob Hope remembers of Armed Forces Radio. Hope was
doing a "Command Performance" for which "Fields
showed up in a wheel chair. He was ill, but he still
wanted to do that "Command Performance." That was
the last time I saw him. It just shows his determination
and the respect he had for the people in the services."(3)

3

Whatever effort it took for them to appear, entertainers
selfiessly gave of themselves so that the American
fighting man would be able to listen to his favorite
performers and programs. Of course, performing for
Armed Forces Radio certainly didn't hurt the careers of
aspiring entertainers. To Bob Hope, this was obvious:
"There is no doubt about it. 1 think that the exposure,
doing something good like that, was very beneficial to the
performers."

Nonetheless, Hope sees this as a secondary reason
entertainers have continued to appear for the troops;
"Oh, I think it's their hearts that cud it It's a combination
of wanting to do it and knowing how important it is to
the people that are over there. That's the reason they do
it. The}- open up. It's a beautiful thing." On his part,
Hope does acknowledge an ulterior motive: "There's a
selfish kind of thing, too. The men pleased me so much.
When 1 went down to March Field in 1941 to do my first
military show, that audience was so great I happened, at
that time, to be coming along big in radio and pictures,
and I was very popular. That audience was so great, 1
said, Wait a minute. How long has this been going on?
I've gotta have more of this."(4)

Hope has been getting "more of this" for more than
fifty years. To this day, he still performs live and on radio
and television for American troops in all comers of the
world. To him, such appearances were "always a delight.
You get the feeling that you're doing something special
for the troops."{5)

Likewise, AFRTS broadcasters have seen their jobs as
"doing something for the troops," year after year,
whether operating in peacetime Korea, in war-torn
Vietnam, or in the busyness of the Los Angeles Broadcast
Center. In the normal course of their work, the dedicated
people of AFRTS have often performed far beyond the
normal call of duty.

It's important to keep in mind two critical elements of

AFRTS' early success: First, a good number of patriotic
professionals, who just happened to be very famous stars
in the entertainment field, donated a virtual infinity of
free labors to America's soldiers and sailors. Their
enthusiasm was contagious. A very impressive number of
the earl} - contributors worked for "a dollar a year/'
because they believed in what they were doing.

Second, no reflection on the merits of these pioneer
artists would be complete without honoring those young
soldier broadcasters of the early years. Their crude and
wacky ingenuity was the real inspiration for what has
envolved into the largest satellite broadcasting organiza-
tion the world has ever seen. What marries the earliest
broadcasts to the current version, is that all these services
are still produced by service people, for service people.
That foundation reflects not only the legendary team
effort of the IX S. Armed Forces, and the "show must go
on" ideal of the performers. It also reflects the very
embodiment of the American Spirit itself.

Thus it is the individual efforts of thousands, with a
heredity of esprit de corps, that bequeathed a half<entury
legacy of the military's primary morale-building agency,
the Armed Forces Radio and Television Service. If s an
exciting story.

Discover more, of the "folklore and history," in the
pages following.

NOTES - CHAPTER 1

(1 ) Interview with Sherwood Schwartz, July 14, 1983;
Interview with Bob Hope, August 2, 1986.

(2) Schwartz Interview.

(3) Hope interview.

(4) Ibid.

(5) Ibid.

1

CHAPTER 2

BROADCAST BEGINNINGS:
BY SOLDIERS FOR SOLDIERS

The US. Armed Senices have always concerned
themselves with the morale of their soldiers in the held -
particularly those assigned in foreign countries far away
from American diversions and entertainment. During
World War I, the Army involved itself with such obvious
morale actions as improvement of billets, the granting
and extension of leaves and the encouragement of
athletics and live entertainment. Private groups, such as
the YMCA, the Knights of Columbus, and the American
Red Cross supplied a large part of the recreation services
for the troops.

In the months after the conclusion of fighting in France
in late 1918, General John J. Pershing ordered a study to
determine the level of morale of the men in the Allied
Expeditionary Force (AEF). The study was to establish a
system to constantly inform the Headquarters "as to the
factors mat undermine the morale of the troops, [to be)
continually in touch with the shifting situation as regards
recreation and kindred needs." Supervised by the G-l
(Personnel) Section of the General Staff, the command
could "call to the attention of appropriate Army Sections
steps that could improve the spirit of the troops, and to
stimulate the work of the nonrnilitary societies. "(1)

The study acknowledged that during the war and even
after the Armistice, "In the pressure of more urgent
matters, the question of morale had to be given scant
attention." As a result, neither the Army nor the private
organizations had made any real coordinated effort to
provide morale senices to the troops. Many of the units
in the field were, "Either inadequately served or not
served at all, while in other places mere [was] duplication
and competition between the Societies." In the Northern
Argonne Section, for example, it was impossible to "find a
single representative of any of the agencies, or even so
much as a baseball, a bar of chocolate, or a magazine"(2)

However, by the summer of 1919, no less man seven
private organizations were working with die United
5tates troops in France. These included the YMCA, the
YWCA. the National Catholic War Council (Knights of
Columbus), the Jewish Welfare Board, the Salvation
Arm}-, the American Library Association and the Red
Cross. A report made by civilian War Department official
Raymond Fosdick. noted that the organizations func-
tioned directly under the Administrative Section of

General Pershing's staff. He added, "They work hard to
coordinate and adjust their lines of work so as to elimi-
nate overlapping and duplication. Added to the tremen-
dous project of education, athletics and entertainment
that the Army itself is coordinating, the work of these
societies helps to form what is probably the largest and
most comprehensive leisure-time program ever under-
taken/^)

Fosdick's continuing investigation of the morale
problem concluded, "The effort of all this work upon the
future citizenship of the United States is incalculable, and
the American people can take pride in their own generous
participation in its successful prosecution."

Even so, his report expressed serious reservations
about the military's use of private organizations to
provide the leisure time services to military troops. The
sectarian basis of the organizations had led to the stimula-
tion of rivalries and a jockeying of position. That was
"disheartening to witness and discouraging to cope with.
To see the representatives of these different agencies
; vying with each other in an attempt to make one last

good impression upon their returning troops is to despair
: of the whole system of social work in the war. "(4)
If the United States ever had to send men into battle
again, Fosdick concluded, the Army would have to take
real steps to eliminate "religious stratification." This
could be done by "reducing to the lowest possible
minimum the number of organizations working directly
with the troops in camp or in the field. There is no
reason," he said, "a single non-sectarian organization in
this war should not have handled the whole problem of
recreation of the Army. Morale is as important as ammu-
nition and is just as legitimate a charge against the public
treasury." (5)

Fosdick felt that recreational facilities provided by the
Army itself would satisfy the troops better than those that
the private agencies had created. The soldier "is instinc-
tively interested in the thing that he does himself," he
said. "The experience of the war shows that the clubs or
huts run by the troops themselves were apt to be more
popular than those managed by the societies. [Likewise,]
the theatrical exhibitions staged by the soldiers created a
deeper and wider interest in the camps than the plays of
professional talent."(6)

This occurred, Fosdick said, because the "soldier is
keen to detect and quick to resent any condescension or
patronage from those who serve him. He's first of all an
American citizen and he asks for no charity." Thus it was
time for the Army to take over all leisure-time, morale-
building activities from the private enterprise. He
argued, "Baseballs and books and all the other factors that
make for a rounded life are an essential part of the
nation's direct responsibility toward its troops."(7)

5

As the Army returned to peacetime, however, the need
for highly organized recreation and entertainment
declined in proportion to the reduction in manpower.
After the AEF returned to the United States, the Army
maintained an overseas presence only in Hawaii,
Panama, and the Philippines, Only the latter two locales
qualified as "foreign duty stations" where the local
language wasn't English.

The Army's primary effort at providing recreation
itself centered on organized athletics. This included
detailing former West Point football players to Hawaii to
supervise the enlisted men's athletic programs. Officers
did not participate beyond coaching. Their own recre-
ation focused more on golf and tennis (Schofield Barracks
to this day still boasts a great golf course). Other than
athletics, the Army of the period left the men to fill their
free time themselves.

Lite the nation as a whole, soldiers turned more and
more to the growing medium of radio following World
War i. In the United States, commercial broadcasting
supplied the news, sports, and entertainment. The soldier
audience received programs only in those areas where a
concentration of military facilities existed. In the Philip-
pines and Panama, they could listen to English language
stations established there for the U. S. civilians working
for the American government and commercial compa-
nies.

PHILIPPINE BEGINNINGS

It was not until February, 1939, that KGEI in San
Francisco began beaming shortwave broadcasts to the
Philippines with prograrnming oriented to the U.S.
military.(8) KGEI had its origins as a General Electric G.E,
Company exhibit at the 1939 Golden Gate Internationa]
Exposition held on Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay.
The company had developed a state-of-the-art shortwave
transmitter equipped with an antenna that could beam
broadcasts either west to Asia or south to Latin America
from the Exposition's House of Magic. The only problem
was that General Electric had no prograrnming for the
station to air. When Buck Harris, the companv's public
relations representative at the Exposition, pointed out the
deficiency, G. E gave him the job of manning the facility
and or developing programming. Their only guidance for
Harris was to broadcast unbiased news and music to Asia
four hours a day, to Latin America three hours a day, and
to develop good wiU.(9)

As a journalist with no radio experience, Harris
approached his job much as an editor would running a
newspaper city desk. He used news from the wire
services and music from transcriptions. He interviewed
foreign dignitaries from the Orient or Latin America who
visited the Exposition. Almost immediately, cablegrams

and letters began pouring into the studio, reporting on the
reception and expressing appreciation for the news and
music Listeners further encouraged KGEI to serve as a
counterpoint to the Japanese Radio Tokyo that broadcast
throughout Asia. Ultimately, KGEI became the model for
the US. Government's own shortwave news and enter-
tainment efforts following Pearl Harbor.(lO)

In 1942, after the Japanese invasion of the Philippines,
KGEI became directly involved in the American military
effort. General Douglas MacArthur requested from
Bataan that the station broadcast warnings about counter-
feit Filipino currency that the Japanese were flooding into
the areas thev seized. KGEI announcers advised their
audience in English and native dialects about the worth-
less money. "They are doing this in order to strip your
stores and farms at no cost to themselves," the announce-
■ ments said. "Do not accept this counterfeit money made
in Japan. Be on your guard." Apparently their announce-
ments made an impact. Within two weeks, the Japanese-
controlled station in Manila and Radio Tokyo began
transmitting stem warnings. Any Filipino questioning
the value of the occupation army's money would be shot
or imprisoned. (11)

During the fight for the Philippines, KGEI became the
primary source of news and information for MacArthur's
men as they waged their losing bartle against the Japanese
invaders. Using a 1,000-watt transmitter taken from
Manila, the American troops set up a small station on
Bataan. From there they picked up and then rebroadcast
news and entertainment beamed from KGEI in San
Francisco. When MacArthur moved his headquarters to
Corregidor at the end of December, his men brought the
transmitter along.(12)

Manual Quezon, the President of the Philippines,
Carlos Romulo, publisher of the Philippine Herald and
General MacArthur all collaborated to get the new station
on the air. Upon arrival on Corregidor, Quezon told
Romulo that they needed to put a station on the air as
quickly as possible. "We must establish communication
with our people and with the men on Bataan," he ex-
plained. The two Filipino leaders approached General
MacArthur. He agreed and directed his radio technicians
to begin broadcasting within 48 hours. By January 1,
1942, they were on the air. When Romulo asked
MacArthur for a name for the station, he replied, "Vie
Voice of freedom."(\3)

Once in operation, the station concentrated on counter-
acting propaganda and false information that the Japa-
nese were broadcasting from a captured station in Manila,
i Broadcasts encouraged those Americans still fighting on
Bataan. The programs included commentaries, items of

local interest, and selections from phonograph records
that the retreating forces had brought with them. Romulo

p
I

also broadcast appeals to the Filipino and American
people to unite against the Japanese invaders. He later
wrote, "Dav after day I broadcast over our makeshift
radio the words and courage of the stalwart, indomitable
MacArthur and the frail, indomitable Quezon." Near the
end of the siege, when the President was considering
returning to Manila, Romulo broadcast a particularly
strong appeal. He modestly recalls, "It was a blockbuster
of a broadcast if I may say so. 1 was desperate and pulled
no punches. I declared the Filipinos were fighting as
never before, determined to hold on and keep faith in
America. "{ 14)

Although Quezon ultimately escaped into exile with
Romulo, die President immediately criticized his friend's
broadcast for offering false hope. One American officer
noted that the propaganda on "The Voice of Freedom"
was "so thick, it served no purpose except to disgust us
and incite mistrust of all hopes." Ironically, the American
troops learned of the deteriorating military situation in
the Philippines from listening to the more objective
broadcasts of KGEl Each night, KGEI broadcasted a
program called "Freedom for the Philippines. "{1 5)

U. S. MILITARY BROADCAST BEGINNINGS

While MacArthur's "Voice of Freedom" is an impor-
tant part of early AFRTS history, it was not the first
United States military radio station. By the time it began
broadcasting from Corregidor in January, 1942, soldiers in
the Panama Canal Zone and Alaska had already put
stations on the air.

The first station in Panama began as a purely military
requirement. The Panama Coast Artillery Command
(PCAC) began establishing an extensive defense alert
network of fortified emplacements to protect the Canal in
early 1940. This included moving antiaircraft units of the
73rd and 83rd Coast Artillery Corps from garrison duty to
jungle positions. For communication between the
headquarters and the artillerymen scattered throughout
the country, the Command used several "picnic type"
radio receivers. They located the transmitter for the alert
svstem in the basement of the Panama Coast Artillery'
Command barracks at Quarry Heights in the Canal Zone.
However, the command quickly discovered that either
the units in the field were turned off or the soldiers
weren't monitoring the radios. Either way, it was impos-
sible to call test alerts.(16)

As editor of the Panama Coast Artillery Sews, the local
service paper, Sergeant Wayne Woods received a request
from the Artillery Command. They needed "maximum
publicity*" to keep the radios in the field turned on.
Woods discussed the problem with Technical Sergeant
Joseph Whitehead, who was in charge of the radio
transmitter, and with Master Sergeant Paul Doster, the

command Public Relations NCO. The three servicemen
came up with an idea. They'd play popular music over
the air. Surely, the troops in the outlying positions would
be more likely to listen to the radio if it provided enter-
tainment. (17)

Major General Sanderford Jarman, Commanding
General of the PCAC, liked the idea. He gave the recom-
mendation his "wholehearted approval" and instructed
the troop morale officer to get the necessary recordings.
Early in 1940, broadcasts began on a regular schedule
with Whitehead in charge of the project The station,
manned by three full-time operators, took PCAC as its
callletters'(18)

PCAC soon took on an additional function. General
Jarman wanted more news about current world develop-
ments reaching his men in the jungle. With the budding
radio station in place, he asked Woods to read news copy
over the air. As Woods recalls, the first newscast con-
sisted of his reading the Panama Star and Herald, a local
morning paper. Each weekdav» one of the NCO's read
the major stories from the paper. On Sunday, the staff
produced a half-hour newscast summarizing the week's
news based on stories from the current Time maga-
zine.^)

In the beginning, the station operated on a hit-and-
miss basis with little idea about what the next day's
broadcast schedule would be. Nonetheless, by April,
1941, the morale of the troops had improved remarkably
as a result of the music and news. The Panavia Coast
Artillery News began to provide operating funds to the
station to ensure regularly scheduled prograrnrning.

NETWORK PROGRAM BEGINNINGS

As the station became more and more popular among
the troops and civilians in the Canal Zone, Master
Sergeant Doster, the Public Relations NCO, suggested
that the staff get stateside programs to air. Woods had
the same idea and he had been in correspondence with
members of the radio and motion picture communities.
Therefore, he undertook the assignment of writing letters
to such radio notables as Jack Benny, Bing Crosby and
Bob Hope asking for transcriptions of their broadcasts.
According to Woods, the "replies were spontaneous."
Jack Benny, for one, offered regular transcriptions at no
charge. His program, on an autographed disk, became
the first network show to be broadcast.(20)

In September, 1941, NBC saluted PCAC in a nation-
wide hookup with a program featuring many radio stars
and personalities. The network followed up this effort by
sending 2,000 pounds of transcribed NBC programs to
the Panama station, literally a ton of programming! By
December, the station had become a full-time operation.

Following the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7,

]

PCAC went off the air at 4:00 PM. They feared the
transmitter might help the attacking Japanese aircraft
vector into the canal from the sea. Thus ended military'
broadcasting in the Canal Zone until January, 1943, when
the station went back on the air as part of a new, growing
APRS organizational)

ALASKA BEGINNINGS

Like the "Voice of Freedom" station and PCAC, the
first station in Alaska had a short life. However, its
creation and operation followed a similar pattern -
soldiers fulfilling soldiers' needs for entertainment and
information in a remote location.

Responding to the increasing tensions with Japan, the
War Etepartment began to send troops to Alaska in early
1941. Units stationed in widely scattered locales found
themselves with little to do in their spare time. Alaska
had few commercial radio stations. None reached the
remote military bases. In mid-March, 1941, however, two
servicemen in'Sitka began broadcasting to their fellow
soldiers in an attempt to fill the void in news and enter-
tainmenL Using makeshift equipment and the call letters
KRB, the men played records that they scrounged from
other soldiers. They also recruited local talent to play live
music and perform short skits. Ultimately, the Federal
Communications Commission (FCC) found out about the
unauthorized station and ordered it shut down.(22)

ARMY BROADCASTING BEGINNINGS

Although PCAC and KRB went on the air earlier, the
honor of being the first Army broadcast operation to
continue without interruption goes to another, in Octo-
ber, 1941, soldiers at Fort Greely, then located on Alaska's
Kodiak Island, went on the air with Station KODK. On
the remote island, the only access the troops had to radio
were shortwave broadcasts from KGEI in San Francisco.
Occasionally, they received AM programs from US.
stations when atmospheric conditions permitted. Accord-
ing to 77ie YftBaxBOS, the Kodiak Naval Air Station
newsletter, even these were subject to interference from
"electric razors, adding machines, automobile ignition,
and loose connections."(23)

At Fort Greely, as at Sitka, it was again the soldiers
themselves who took it upon themselves to start a station
for their buddies' news and entertainment. Captain
William Adams, the base finance officer, was a former
radio station employee in San Francisco. He placed a
notice in the post newsletter announcing a meeting for
anyone interested in starting a radio station. Twelve men
responded. Adams divided them into an engineering
committee to assemble a small transmitter, and a produc-
tion committee to develop programming, find talent and
put on trial shows. The first experimental "broadcast"

took place on October 28, 1941, a quarter-hour variety
program consisting of a live band, singers, and a skit
staged in the lounge of the officers' quarters. With
Adams signaling his modulation cues through the
window, a crystal mike picked up the show. A cable
carried it next door to the mess hall. From there it aired
over a loud speaker.(24) What a beginning!

The initial "broadcast" had an immediate impact on
the civilian employees who were constructing military
facilities on the island. Right away, they recognized the
benefit of expanding the radio service. In three separate
lotteries, the workers raised money. J.C Henry, the
contractor's general superintendent, used the funds to
purchase a 15-watt transmitter, a turntable, microphones
and other equipment. When the components arrived in
early December, the "engineering committee" assembled
them in the base's ordinance building. Test broadcasts for
a few hours a day began with the program reaching all
over the base and into the town of Kodiak.(25)

Even before the station officially went on the air, it
became clear that a real studio would be needed to house
the equipment Henry and his builders again came
through by volunteering their time to build a station on
an empty piece of land near Lake Louise. By the end of
December, they completed the studios, a control room,
practice areas for performers, offices, and an auditorium
seating 100 with standing room for 200 more. KODK, as
the staff named the new station, began full-time opera-
tions on January 1, 1942, broadcasting from 7:00 AM to
10:00 PM with enough power to reach throughout the
island.(26)

Early KODK programs consisted primarily of recorded
music and newscasts produced by a volunteer staff.
Besides providing entertainment, KODK immediately
began to serve as an informational outlet The island
commander, General Charles Corlett, used the radio
station to offer an early radio commentary on the current
status of the war.

"Every day finds us a little better prepared to beat off
an attack," he said, "Ours is a unique establishment.
Never before in the history of the United States has there
been a combination naval and military base with a joint
responsibility between the two services. Yet we work
together in perfect harmony - pulling shoulder to
shoulder to accomplish our common mission." Corlett
also praised the construction workers' efforts in support-
ing KODK. The civilians working with the military
symbolized the unified war effort. (27)

According to the base newspaper, the Kodiak Bear, the
station was "into full cadence" by the middle of January.
It was broadcasting "a full schedule of news, music
variety programs, and talks by the command. Entertain-
ment shows were arranged using talented directors,

8

musicians and comedians from various units stationed at
the Post." In the first days of operation, it took only four
hours to play through the station's entire record library.
Soon, the selections improved as people brought in their
own discs. Live prograrnrning included shows which
each unit produced by gathering talent from the construc-
tion force and the local populace.

Regardless of the initial limitations imposed by the
smaU record library and the somewhat limited abilities of
the amateur performers, KODK met with immediate
success. In a front page story. The Williiimvs called the
station "the best thing that has hit this area since the last
boatload of nurses arrived. That seems to be the general
idea around the camp as the nifty little outfit, operating at
1300-KW now, enters its fourth week of broadcast-
ing."^) Quite a review!

The quality of live performances received a temporary
boost in March when comedian Joe E. Brown arrived in
Kodiak during his one-man, 33-day tour of Alaskan
military facilities. KODK was the only military radio
station in operation during his travels and Brown ap-
peared on the air several rimes during his stay. He also
contributed to later programming after he got back to
Hollywood by having his friends in the entertainment
business send transcriptions of their radio broadcasts to
KODK.(29)

In May, KODK did its first remote, covering the
dedication of a new chapel by hooking an amplifier into a
telephone line. After that, the station carried the Sunday
chapel services even' week. The station also provided a
regular schedule of programs from each of the base's
units. Music ranged from mountain to cowboy to big
band style. The "Kodiak Press Club" performed a series
of extravaganzas from murder mysteries to tales of
thwarted love. Ultimately, the station survived and
prospered through hard work and detailed planning. It
produced balanced programs providing radio fare of
interest to all segments of its audience.(30)

In November, KODK moved to temporary quarters in
the Post library building while its facilities on Lake Louise
underwent remodelling to improve broadcast quality.
Workers constructed better soundproofing in the three
studios and set the control room on four concrete blocks
to assure stability for its equipment On December 5, the
station relumed to its newly renovated building with the
new call letters WVCX - and an official operating license
from the FCC.{31)

Elsewhere, other stations began to appear on military
bases throughout Alaska. At Sitka, in February, 1942, '
soldiers ignored the pre\ious problem between the FCC
and KRB and again started a station to provide entertain-
ment and news. Private Charles Gilliam, a radio techni-
cian in civilian life, and Charles Green and Chet Iverson,

who were ham radio operators, had trained together at
Camp McQuade, California. There they had decided to
take radio parts and ham gear with them to their remote
Alaskan post. A cooperative buddy in supply shipped
the equipment to Sitka as "military equipment"

On arrival, Gilliam and Private Robert Nelson rigged a
small transmitter and began broadcasting music directly
from an old phonograph within a construction shack
They had no microphone to make announcements or to
identify the source of the music, so the "broadcast" that
reached only the nearby barracks, had no call letters,
news or schedule.(32)

Encouraged by the response from the troops, the
fledgling broadcasters painted the call letters GAB
(standing for Gil And Bob) on the side of the shack and
began expanding their operation. Donations began to
come in to help improve the facility. On April 5, having
acquired a "live" capability, the soldiers did their first
remote, broadcasting the Easter Service from the Post
Theater using the new call letters KRAY. As with KODK,
they structured their early programming in a loose and
informal way, to say the least. Soldiers assigned to
regular military duties volunteered at the station during
off hours - usually learning their jobs as the)' went
along.{33)

As KRAY grew in size and popularity, the commander
of the base. Colonel Walter Shoaff, approved the construc-
tion of a permanent facility' containing three studios and
four offices. The main studio seated 100 people for live
broadcasts. In its new building, the station officially went
on the air August 16th, with a ninety-minute live variety
show that included several bands, solo performances, and
a dramatic slat Local citizens also contributed to the
programming. Broadcasting from 11:00 AM to 10:00 PM,
the station received a license from the FCC and the official
call letters WVCX on November 19, 1942.(34)

Like KODK and the other stations that were springing
up, KRAY initially had problems acquiring enough
recorded material to sustain its operation. The transcrip-
tions of commercial network shows, often arriving
months after their stateside airing, helped to fill the
stations' schedules even though they appeared on an
irregular basis. A 51,000 donation from Sitka residents
and service clubs helped pay for a Lang-Worth transcrip-
tion library for the station. A local citizen described the
station as "one of the greatest things ever to happen to
Sitka."(35)

The emergence and success of the Alaska stations
proved that the need existed for regular radio program-
ming to provide news and recreation for our U. 5.
military. Despite the obstacles, the soldiers in the field
would find a way to put more of them on the air.

The haphazard, uncoordinated development of the

9

first Alaskan stations demonstrated one other fact. To
improve morale and satisfy military requirements for
reaching troops with command information and educa-
tion would require a more organized broadcast operation.
True. But, no one despised the humble beginnings.

NOTES - CHAPTER 2

(1) Memorandum for General Pershing on Morale in the
American Expeditionary Force, February 1, 1919.

(2) IbicL

(3) Report to the Secretary of War on the Activities of
Welfare Organizations Serving with the A.E.F., June 1,
1919, pX

(4) Ibid,pp 1,61.

(5) Ibid,pp7,8.

(6) Ibid, p 8.

(7) Ibid,pp 8,9.

(S)History of American Forces Philippines Network
(AFPN), 1939 to December 31, 1968.

(9) Frank Taylor, "He Bombs Tokyo Even- Dav," Saturday
Evening Post. Julv 25, 1942, p. 10.

(10) Ibid.

(11) lbid.

(12) Ibid.

(13) Evelvn Wells, Carlos P. Romulo, Voice of Freedom, p.
100,

(14) Ibid, Carlos Romulo, J Walked Willi Heros, Avon
Books, 1961, pp 161-164.

(15) Romulo, I Walked With Heros, pp 164-165; Louis
Morton, Vie Fall Of Tlx Philippines, p 62.

(16) Letter from MSgt Wavne Woods to Captain Damon
Eckles, OIC, Public Affairs Office, Clark AFRS, the
Philippines, October 26, 1953.

(17) rbid.
{18)Ibid

(19) Ibid.

(20) The Jungle Murder, September 23. 1944.

(21) Ibid.

(22) Charles Gilliam interview with Ervin Green,
September 7, 1982; E.M. Goddard, Speech on WVOC,
Sitka, August 16,1943.

(23) The Willhvaws, November 8, 1941.

(24) Kodiak Bear, June 9, 1942.

(25) Ibid; Williwaws, December 6, 1941; Interview with
Pauline Magnusen, August 10, 1983.

(26) Kodiak Bear, January 10, 1942; Kodiak Bear,
June 9, 1942.

{27)i(odiak Bear, January 17, 1941

(28)Ibid; Magnusen interview; Williwaios, January 24, 1942
Q.9)Kodial: Bear, June 9, 1974.

(30) fbid; Interview with William Adams, September 14,
1982; Interview with Ole Johnson, August 10, 19S3.

(31) Ibid; Kodiak Bear, November 18, 1942; Vivian Lawhead
Diary, December 5, 1942.

(32) lnterview with Charles Gilliam, August 2, 1983.

(33) lbid.

(34) Ibid.

(35) Military telegram, August 14, 1942.

"COMMAND PERFORMANCES"
AND OTHER GREAT SHOWS

During a visit to United States troops in Iceland in the
spring of 1941, Colonel R.A. Boiling heard soldiers ask the
Armv to make sports broadcasts available. Through
Lieutenant General Lesley J. McNair, Chief of the Army
Ground Forces, they fowarded their request first to the
Morale Service Division, and then to the Radio Division,
Bureau of Public Relations in the War Department
Although the Radio Division had no such mandate
included in its assigned activities, people there enthusias-
tically agreed to take on the task. Thus ushered in still
another chapter in the extraordinary history of armed
forces broadcasting.

Edward Kirby. a civilian broadcaster who'd come to
Washington from Tennessee, was the one who tackled the
job of developing the idea of "radio to troops." To put
together the sports programs, he assembled a production
staff that included Robert C. Coleson and Glenn Wheaton.
Wheaton had worked for the 1939-40 San Francisco
World's Fair Association. He and Louis Cowan, producer
of the "Quiz Kids" program, volunteered their services as
"dollar a year" men. As time would tell, that was an
incredible bargain.

By late spring, the Radio Division was broadcasting to
U.S. forces overseas by short wave. Right away, troops
began to request musical selections in the same wav that
commercial disc jockeys received calls for particular
records from listeners' So, Kirby's staff decided to
develop its own disc jockey-like programs.

To customize the "dj" shows even further, Kirby and
his staff got leading band leaders and their singers to cut
speaking tracks along with a master of ceremonies who
introduced their hit songs. Then they built that dialogue
into the music and eventually constructed a half-hour
transcription program that'd be broadcast overseas.

Although Glenn Wheaton wrote several prototype
scripts, none were produced by December 7, 1941, the
"Day of Infamy." To their credit, the Radio Division had
expanded its broadcast schedule during the year. It
included "News from Home," a weekly hometown news
program, "Ringside Seat," a weekly sports roundup and
in the FaU, "Football Rebroadcasts.'"

Following Pearl Harbor, the idea of a musical request
show quickly became a reality, albeit in a different format.
Wheaton told Coleson on December 8 that he thought the
disc jockey idea should be discarded in favor of a live

show. With the United States in the war, Wheaton felt
that the military could now get all the talent it wanted for
a "Command Performance" broadcast. The staff agreed.

They encouraged the servicemembers to "command
the performers to appear," making them feel they had a
real connection with the program. From this "command
to appear" the program got its name, "Command Perfor-
mance." Wheaton, generally credited for the coining
show's title, received the assignment to create a full
production staff and bring the idea to fruition.

Lieutenant Rankin Roberts, a recent arrival to the
Radio Bureau, undertook the task of setting up the
shortwave broadcast of the program. He and Wheaton
went to New York to arrange for the talent and air time.
If possible, they'd recruit Vic Knight, the producer of the
Fred Allen Show, to become the program producer of
"Command Performance."

The impact of Pearl Harbor and the patriotic response
of the nation made it easy. Glenn Wheaton assumed the
general direction of the writers with the help of Knight,
who readily accepted the job of producer for a dollar a
year. The only cost to the War Department was for
manufacturing transcriptions of the live shows, duplicat-
ing them, and shipping them to the short wave stations
for broadcast Wheaton obtained all the talent, additional
writers, studio facilities, and air rime at no cost!

Under Whea ton's leadership, "Command Perfor-
mances" took less than three months to get on the air.
The first program broadcast on March 1, 1942, in the New-
York CBS radio theater. The caliber of the show's cast
was outstanding, setting the standard for future pro-
grams:

Ham' Von Zell served as the announcer, Eddie Cantor
acted as the master of ceremonies, and the Corky
Fairchild Orchestra provided the music. (One of the
writers of Eddie Cantor's comedy material, Bob Welch,
became the producer of "Command Performance" as an
Army corporal after the program moved to Los Angeles.)
Bert Gordon added a comic touch as the "Mad Russian"
and the Western Union boys sang a birthday telegram.
Troops in Iceland requested a sports segment, so the
programmers included a recording of the January 9 ft Joe
Lewis-Buddy Bear title fight on the finished transcription.

Engineers made two transcriptions and then dupli-
cated the discs. From the beginning, "Command Perfor-
mance" was broadcast from transcriptions because of the
time zone difference in the locations of the American
forces. To protect transcriptions against human error,
engineers borrowed the technical procedure from the
phonograph recording industry. This became standard
operating practice, cm occasion preventing an irreplace-
able loss of a completed program.

On March 8th, the show was broadcast on eleven

1

.American shortwave stations to troops overseas. Starting
with the original eleven stations, Lieutenant Roberts
gradually expanded the network. By May 29, 1942, KGEI
in San Francisco was beaming the show to the Pacific.

"COMMAND PERFORMANCES"
MOVES WEST

Although New York produced the first six "Command
Performances," it quickly became obvious that the show
should move to the West Coast. First, the troops' over-
whelmingly requested more programming starring the
Hollywood personalities. Second, the program was
quickly exhausting the talent then available in New York.
Third, both Wheaton and Knight had their permanent
homes in Los Angeles.

Once in the West, Robert Coleson borrowed office
space from CBS in their Hollywood building at Sunset
and Gower. He also arranged for the use of the network's
large audience studio for the recording sessions. For
talent, Wheaton and Knight began negotiations with
George Rosenberg, the radio director of the Hollywood
Victoiy Committee.

The first West Coast transcription of "Command
Performance" occurred on April 12, 1942. It featured Paul
Douglas as the announcer, Gene Tiemey as the master of
ceremonies, Beth' Hutton, Gary Cooper, the Andrews
Sisters, Ray Noble and his Orchestra, Edgar Bergen and
Charlie McCarthy, Ginny Simms, and Bob Bums. Al-
though Rosenberg had not realized that "Command
Performance" was to be produced on a regular basis, his
commitment increased as the program continued.
Ultimately, every notable Hollywood personality ap-
peared on the show, often frequently.

The original production policies for the show, which
Edward Kirby had established in New York, remained in
effect as long as the Radio Bureau produced the program
in Hollywood. The entertainment industry donated the
talent, studio facilities, and technical equipment and the
War Department paid for the production, just like it'd
done in New York. The NBC Recording Division in
Hollywood handled the technical processing. The
increased distribution network ultimately required the
use of vinylite pressings.

During the period that the Radio Bureau produced
"Command Performance," Wheaton remained the chief
writer. However, shortly after the program moved to
Hollywood, Kirby replaced Vic Knight with Maury
Holland due to unreasonable demands by Knight and the
"increasing sense of his own importance." On one
occasion, Knight had demanded the appearance of a
singer on "Command Performance" even though she'd
already committed to appear at a war bond rally in
Boston. Knight had refused to accept Judy Garland as a

replacement, requiring Coleson 's intercession-
Later, Cal Kuhl, the top producer of the Hollywood
office of J. Walter Thompson Advertising Agency, became
the third and final producer of "Command Performance"
under the Radio Division.

Besides its original purpose of providing entertainment
to the troops overseas, "Command Performance" became
a vehicle for the War Department's Bureau of Public
Relations. So, at the request of the War Department and
the National Association of Broadcasters (NAB), Glenn
Wheaton's crew produced Show Number 15 in Cleve-
land, Ohio, on May 13. He later recalled, the program
"was done under well nigh impossible conditions, against
our wishes and judgment. We've always thought poorly
of that particular show, although apparently it served its
purpose of entertaining the NAB. which, of course, was
not our primary purpose."

The Radio Division itself, however, was not adverse to
using "Command Performance" for its own ends.
Wheaton recalls that on August 30, the Division produced
the show at the National Theater in Washington, D.C. In
doing so, he hoped it would obtain better cooperation,
funds, and prestige from the War Department. Stars from
one of the Victory Caravans and other entertainers flew in
from Hollywood and performed. Kay Kyser flew in his
entire orchestra by charter plane to provide the music.
Top-ranking government and military officials made up
the audience.

The show, which Kirby called "the Big G.I. Broadcast
I of 1942," saw performances by such notables as Bing
Crosby. Larry Adler, Bert Wheeler, Paul Douglas, Ginny
Simms, Jimmy Cagney, Hedy Lamarr, Abbott and
■ Costello, and Dinah Shore. It spanned seventy-five

minutes of terrific entertainment, giving the production
I staff enough material for programs 30 and 31 in the series
and enough left over to create program 34 with some
additional segments from earlier broadcasts.

THE STARS COME OUT:
HOPE. CROSBY, BENNY AND MORE

In the pursuit of further recognition, the Bureau of
Public Relations planned a special Christmas show that
was broadcast domestically over commercial networks
and independent stations, shortwaved overseas to the
troops, and rebroadcast by the BBC on Christmas Day.
The program included Bob Hope as emcee, the Andrews
Sisters, Red Skelton, Spike Jones and his Orchestra, Bing
Crosby, Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy, Dinah
Shore, Jack Benny, Fred Allen, and the 20th Century Fox
Orchestra.

Editors transcribed portions of the show in New York
and added material recorded in Hollywood. According
to Wheaton. this was the only "Command Performance"

12

the Radio Division produced and released for broadcast
in the United States.(l)

On a parallel track, other events within the Army were
also shaping the beginning of AFRS and the direction of
programs such as "command Performance"

NOTES - CHAPTER 3

(1) This chapter is largely based on an unpublished
research paper by Theodore S. Delay Jr., "An Historical
Study of the Radio Series, 'Command Performance,'
written in June 1950. Additional information is presented
from an interview with Jack Harris on October 15, 19S2.

13

CHAPTER 4

THE JOINT COMMITTEE

On a parallel track, other events where also shaping
the beginning of AFRS.

At the close of World War I, the War Department
established a Morale Branch within the General Staff. Its
mission: to coordinate the work of the civilian welfare
agencies and others that influenced the morale of the
Army. One was an education program financed initially
by the YMCA, which provided classes for troops await-
ing shipment home after the war. The War Department
later transferred the YMCA officers into an organization
known as the Army Education Corps. The Corps then
set up an Education and Recreation program on military
bases in the United States,

The Morale Branch began experimental studies and
initial work that might have had important implications
in the peacetime Armed Services. Unfortunately, the
drastic curtailment of appropriations during the peace-
time of the 1920s and 1930's limited any significant
results. So, local commanders retained the primary
responsibility for maintaining on-base troop morale.

Perhaps the onlv important contribution of the Morale
Branch came from its Chief, Brigadier General EX.
Munson, who wrote a book entitled Management of Men.
Despite the work's inadequate and insufficient evidence
of social research, Munson was years ahead of his time in
defining the impact of leadership and personnel man-
agement on troop morale- Yet, his ideas of the founda-
tion of military morale fell into obscurity bv 1939.

When Army Mobilization Regulation (MR) MO dated
October 21, 1939, appeared, it defined morale largely in
terms of physical welfare, food, leaves, discipline, and
recreation. It included directives intended "to set forth
in detail those factors that have a decided influence on
morale, to show how each of these factors should be
dealt with in order to indicate the most suitable and
practicable organization for the control and supervision
of morale factors."{l)

The provisions of the MR 1-10 went into effect in July,
1940, establishing a Morale Division in the Adjutant
General's Office. Its major sections included Army
Motion Picture Service, Recreation and Welfare, War
Department Exhibits, Decorations, and Morale Publicity.
Although the title of "Morale Publicity Section" con-
tained the implication of troop information, it served
primarily as a minor public relations office for the War
Department. It had no written responsibility nor

intentions of expanding into either an education program
or a program of mdoctrination or orientation.

The Morale Division did, however, plan and begin the
operations of a network of recreation facilities on each
military installation in the United States and abroad.

The*1939 Mobilization Regulations also directed that
the Secretary of W f ar appoint a committee of civilian and
military officials who were experts in welfare and com-
munity senice activities. The committee's purpose was
: to advise the Secretary on the relationship between the
I activities of the Armed Sen-ices and those provided by
other governmental and private agencies. Initiated in
January, 1941, as an Army committee, it expanded in
February to include Navy and Marine representatives
with the title "Joint Army and Navy Committee on
Welfare and Recreation."

Secretary of War Henry Stimson selected Fredrick
Osbom, a friend of President Franklin Roosevelt and
Chairman of the Rockefeller Foundation, to head the
committee. Osbom had originally come to Washington in
August, 1940, to work as a "dollar a year man" in the U.S.
Budget Office. President Roosevelt later appointed him
the Chairman of the Selective Senice Committee before
Stimson tapped him to lead the work on troop welfare.

During the 1930's, Osbom devoted a large part of his
time to studies in the social sciences besides his business
interests. On occasion, he discussed the issues raised in
his War Department Reports with Raymond Fosdick, the
Department's morale expert. After his appointment, he
convinced Fosdick to join the Joint Committee. Fosdick's
addition to the committee provided a direct link with the
studies of morale problems the Armv had experienced
after World War L

Once the United States entered the war, the influence
of these committee members was a key ingredient in the
agency's ability- to shape the morale activities of the
Armed Forces. Besides Osbom and Fosdick, the commit-
tee initially included Clarence Dyhestra, then Director of
the Selective Senice; Robert Shenvood, the playwright
and later Overseas Director for the Office of War Informa-
tion; Charles Tart, son of the former President and later
Director of the Office of Community War Services; Wayne
Coy, Assistant Administrator of the Federal Security
Agency; and Arthur Page, Vice President of the American
Telephone and Telegraph Company and an authority on
public relations.

Each of these men had a long-standing commitment to
public senice and a deep interest in the progress of the
Army and Navy provisions for recreation and entertain-
ment

According to Francis Keppel, a 23-year-old freshman
Dean at Han*ard who came to Washington as the
committee's secretary, the members all hoped that a

14

soldier's experience would provide mental as well as
physical and moral benefits. To this end, the committee
spent a considerable amount of time studying the prob-
lem and the current research on education and leader-
ship- They received support from educators, the press
and social science research groups, and from Army
Secretary Stinson and Chief of Staff George C.
MarshalL(2)

THE USO

Ultimately, the committee concluded that the welfare
of troops outside of army camps should be in the hands of
a single group called the United Service Organization
(USO)- It was to be formed by the four private agencies
who had worked in this area during World War L In
response to a request from the President, the committee
prepared a formal recommendation from the Army and
Navy on how to establish the new agency. Osbom,
accompanied by General Marshall, hand carried the
proposal to the White House. President Roosevelt read
the report out loud to the assembled group. When he
came to the part describing how the USO would be in
charge of recreation and troop welfare outside military
bases, Paul McNutt, then head of Health, Education, and
Welfare, interrupted. "We've changed that," he said.
"We've set up an organization in mv department to do
that"(3)

A heated discussion followed. Osbom stuck to the
original recommendations that the USO should remain in
private hands. So, the President became obviously
pained at the noisy argument. As Osbom later recalled,
Roosevelt suddenly relaxed and began to smile. He
leaned forward and placed his hand on McNutt's shoul-
der. "Paul," he said, "if you do this you'll have a large
staff and when the war is over you will have to fire them
all. And. that would break your heart. 1 wouldn't have
that happen to vou for anything. We'll have the USO do
it."(4)

Meanwhile, in February, 1941, seven months after the
establishment of the AG Morale Division, General
Marshall ordered the major commands to send their
morale officers to Washington for a conference on troop
morale issues. In preparing for the meeting, Marshall
talked with Fosdick about the problems of World War I
and consulted with General Munson about his book
Mamgement of Men.

By the time the conference convened on February 25th,
Marshall had formulated his own ideas on an Army
education and information program. He was aware of
the necessity to keep soldiers interested in the work and
the problems of restlessness in a peacetime Army still ill-
equipped to fight.

However, the caliber of the officers that came to the

conference didn't help Marshall find any solutions to
these problems. Over half the officers had received their
assignment within two days of their departure for
Washington. Few of them had any professional training
or experience in personnel management, welfare work, or
recreation let alone the area of informing and educating
troops. Many of them had no idea what their job in-
volved and most had received kidding from their fellow
officers about their assignment. (5)

The preparation for the conference and the sessions
themselves made it clear that the War Department's
existing machinery was not adequate to "enable the Chief
of the Morale Division to know me state of morale of the
Army." So, on March 14, 1941, the Army created the
Morale Branch directly under the supervision of the Chief
of Staff. The new agency received the mission of "the
operation in the War Department of matters regarding
recreation and welfare and all other morale matters not
specifically charged to other War Department agencies.
The chief of the Morale Branch will develop methods and
procedures that will enable him at all times to know the
state of morale of the Army," it said, "in accomplishing
these missions he will conform to normal channels of
command." (6)

General Marshall named Brigadier General James Ulio
as Chief of the new Army Morale Branch collateral to his
other duties as Assistant to the Adjutant General The
branch had four major divisions: Welfare and Recreation,
Planning and Research, Public Relations, and Services.

Included in Public Relations was the responsibility for
camp newspapers and camp radio reception. The initial
organization contained foundations for future informa-
tion and education activities. The initial activities in-
volved the expansion of recreation facilities in the camps
and the negotiations which formalized the creation of the
USO. By then, Frederick Osbom's Joint Committee had
moved into the War Department and he had a desk next
to General Ulio.(7)

When General Ulio became ill in August, 1941, and
had to leave the Morale Branch, General Marshall
recommended commissioning Osbom as a Brigadier
General and appointing him as Chief of the agency.
There was much "soul-searching." Could he handle the
job of a General without even "blowing how to salute?"
With the "feeling that my civilian qualities would always
be uppermost," Osbom took the assignment. His was
one of the first War Department appointments of a
civilian to rani; of General Officer. As one can imagine, it
created a considerable amount of comment in the press
and within the Army itself.(S)

To Arm\' officers, morale was a word of many mean-
ings. It was all too often confused either with morals or
drill field precision, but in either case, the responsibilit)'

15

for morale rested on the commander in the field, not on a
staff section in Washington. As a "civilian general,"
Osbom faced his task with a partly developed staff, a
rather suspicious army, and, except for Munson's
Management of Men and Fosdick's reports, little basic
doctrine as a guide. Still, there was much to do.

The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor increased the
problems - and the demands for solutions - beyond
anything anticipated before December 7. Reflecting this,
the Morale Branch changed its name to Special Sen-ices
on January 15, 1942. It now included recreation responsi-
bilities with those of information and education.

By June, 1942, the branch split into a Special Services
Division in charge of recreation and welfare activities and
an Information and Education Division. Osbom took
over the I and'E operation. He and General Marshall both
believed that providing information and education to the
troops was crucial to the war effort Troops had to
understand why they had to fight. Marshall recognized
that the medium of film could be an excellent wav to do
that, so he arranged to have Academy Awarding-winning
film director Frank Capra immediately transferred from
the Signal Corps. He had commissioned him in February,
into Brigadier General Osbom's Morale Branch.(9)

After meeting with Osborn in his office, Capra re-
ported to Colonel E.L Munson Jr., who was the head of
the Information Services section. It handled news, radio,
pamphlets and film. After introducing Capra to the
organization, Munson asked him if he knew a man
named Tom Lewis.

TOM LEWIS

Yes. Capra knew Lewis both as the husband of actress
Loretta Young and as Vice President in charge of radio
production at Young and Rubicam, one of the country's
major advertising agencies. Munson responded, "That's
the man. We think he's the best candidate to head our
radio section." Still recovering from his sudden transfer
from the Signal Corps to Special Services, Capra threat-
ened to tell Lewis to stay out of uniform to avoid becom-
ing "another 'bodv' to be kicked around bv some jerk
superior."(10)

In an effort to calm Capra, Munson explained, "Frank,
you know as well as we do that 'propaganda' is a dirty
word to the American public. Congress has always been
mistrustful of any 'managed' news, any so-called propa-
ganda being fed to the captive audiences of millions of
troops in uniform." The Army, on the other hand,
believed that soldiers wanted to know* why thev were in
uniform. "To tell them why," Munson said, the service
was "going all out with modem communications media -
newsprint, radio, and film." Munson explained that to
ensure bipartisan support for the operation, Frederick

Osbom, a Republican, was heading Special Services. His
aide then interrupted to add that Munson, a West
Pointer, was in direct charge of Army information to
make the operation "acceptable to mossback Armv
diehards."(ll)

Once he understood his role, Capra asked Munson
where Lewis fit in. Munson explained. "We're thinking
of him for a job that would have scared off Hercules. We
want a Superman who'll get up and run a worldwide
radio service that'll be bigger than all our commercial
! radio companies put together. We want an airway
hookup between the homeffont and everv military unit
as small as a squad, in any part of the globe - from pole
to pole, from continent to continent, sea to sea. We want
to send the news from home - entertainment, shows
with stars, comedians, girls, football games, baseball,
Kentucky Derbies. We want to bring America's love to
our sons and daughters, provide the forgetfulness for the
wounded, the homesick and the despairing. We want
them to know that we care!"(12)

Lewis was recommended for the job. Munson added,
"setting up a globe-encompassing armed forces radio
service is one of the toughest jobs ever offered to any one
man. Like Columbus, he'll have to sail into unknown
seas. Some very big and very smart men have insisted
that Tom Lewis is our man. They say he's a genius in
getting things done."

Munson had studied Lewis inside and out and did
concur that he "is a genius." Being a genius was fine, but
in such a job a person would also have to be "lucky,"
Munson asked Capra whether he thought Lewis was
"lucky."

The director responded, "1 don't know about Tom
Lewis being lucky, but I know damn well that you, the
Army, and the country will be lucky. You've got your
man, fellows - a man who asks God for help, and gets
it."(I3)

Meanwhile, Lewis had been exploring the possibilities
of getting a commission in the Army or Naw. He had
favored the Navy as a result of having visited the
U55 Arizona mat summer. In the midst of his efforts to
enlist, he received a request from the joint Army and
Navy Committee. Now chaired by Walter Page, it asked
for a plan for a global communications operation. Page
wanted an information, orientation and entertainment
radio organization for the U.S. troops, wherever thev
were in combat. Major Arthur Farlow, who delivered
the request, had been the San Francisco representative of
J. Walter Thompson Advertising Agency before joining
the Army. He told Lewis that the Joint Committee was
influenced by the range of his experience in broadcasting
including local radio stations in Schenectady and
Cleveland, his familiarity with the motion picture

IB

industry and its leaders, and his work in audience re-
search techniques.(14)

Major Farlow explained that the Army wanted Lewis
to resign from his position at Young and Rubicam, enlist,
and take on the operation. The Army promised him a
commission to the rank of Major. Lewis accepted at once.
Later, he acknowledged, "I wasn't quite certain at the
moment how high or low in the order of things the rank
of Major belonged, but it all sounded fine to me, the
answer to prayer. I knew I could do it, it was so obvi-
ously the answer I had been seeking."{15)

Lewis resigned from Y k R and his position with
Audience Research, Inc., the George Gallup subsidiary of
the ad agency. Immediately, he began to work on the
master plan for the Joint Committee. Lewis charted on
world maps the places where the Armed Forces would
likely to be fighting in the coming years. He planned the
necessary coverage and made rough estimates of the huge
quantities of equipment that they'd need -including long
and shortwave transmitters and thousands of receivers.
To handle the vast distances (and time zones) involved,
Lewis determined that the agency would have to transmit
its programs twenty-tour hours a day. (16)

Studying the directives under which his organization
would operate, Lewis determined what had to be created
from scratch and what could be secured and adapted
from material already being broadcast by the major
networks. The Army would have to write and produce
its own "education" and orientation programs. "Informa-
tion" material could be retrieved from the same sources
as that of the general public For "entertainment" pro-
grams, Lewis' organization could combine radio net-
works' most popular programs with specially created
troop-oriented material.(17)

Lewis needed to obtain priorities - particularly in the
civilian recording industry - in order to staff the organi-
zation and to acquire equipment Like other non-combat
operations, he found himself in "backbreaking, soul-
searching" competition for limited assets. Both the
military and civilian officials with whom he worked
thought all personnel and resources should be directed to
the military combat effort.(18)

As soon as he received his commission on May 26,
1942, Tom Lewis went to Washington with his plans that
the Joint Committee and his superiors accepted. Excited,
he was anxious to implement them as quickly as possible.

As headquarters for the production operation, Lewis
selected buildings first in the Taft Building on Hollywood
and Vine, Later, they moved onto the old Twentieth
Century Fox lot on Western Avenue in Hollywood - the
same location Capra had chosen for his offices. Faced
with slow movement by the War Department and
Congressional budget committees to approve the move,

Lewis turned to Capra for advice.

"Just move into them anvway," Capra told him.
I "Don't ask questions. You have two choices if you want
! to accomplish the things we've been commissioned to do
I in this Army: take what you need and do what you must
to get the job done - or go crazy! There's no resigning or
backing out in the Army, and who needs to go nuttier
than we are? We were crazv to trv to do this in the first
place!"(19)

Lewis accepted the advice. He set up on the Fox lot
and began putting his staff together, recruiting close
friends from his radio work. These included an
incredible team of professionals. True Boardman joined
the staff on July 19, 1942, coming directly from the movie

i set of The Arabian Nighte at Universal Studios. He
would serve as Lewis' Executive Officer throughout the
conflict He and associate Austin Tete" Peterson re~

J ceived commissions. Charles Vanda and Jerry Lawrence,
CBS execs, entered the Armv as enlisted men. Robert Lee
was another talented Lewis associate from Young &
Rubicam. He and Lawrence had formed a writing
partnership in January, 1942, which endured for more

i than forty years. Together, they'd produced such wonder-

| ful plays as "Inherit The Wind/* "Auntie Mame" and
"First Tuesday In October."

Another contemporary, Al Scalpone, was exempt
from active senice, but came into the armed forces as a

! civilian employee at a fraction of his previous salary.

' When word got out, Tom Lewis received letters and
phone calls from the best and most successful writers,
producers, and technicians in the radio industry. They all
wanted to get in on the ground floor. (20)

Not all the volunteers were exactly noble - some
of the applications were expecting draft notices any day.
Some had already received orders for their draft examina-
tions. Others were already in the senice, but not in
positions in which their creativity could be put to good
use. Still others got in touch simply because they felt the
need to help. Excepting those who were simply looking
for soft berths, Lewis managed to get the key people into
AFRS to build up his production staff.

At the same time, he established goals for the
organization and procedures for accomplishing them. As
a result, it was to take several months before AFRS began
its own production of programs. During this time,
"Command Performance" and the radio stations at
Kodiak and Sitka continued to provide the sole military
broadcasting for the troops.

The Radio Section had found their man. Tom
Lewis would become the father of armed forces radio,
then radio and television. Until his death a half-century
later. Tom Lewis continued as the inspirational leader of
AFRTS

I

17

NOTES -CHAPTER 4

(1) Mobilization Regulations MO, October 21, 1939.

(2) Interview with Francis Keppel, March 6, 2984; Fredrick
Osbom, Voyage To A Nra> World, pp. 88-91; Frands
Keppel, Study of Information and Education Activities in
World War 11, April 6, 1946, hereafter cited as Keppel,
Study, pp 9-13.

<3)Osb6m, pp 91-92.
(4)Ibid, p 92.

<5)Keppel, Study, p 14; Interview with Jack Pulwers,
March 25, 1984.

(6) Memorandum for the Chief of Staff, Subject Creation
of a separate branch for military morale, March 3, 1941.

(7) Osbom, Voyage To A New World, p 92; Keppel, Study,
pp 16-18. •

(8) Osbom. p 92; Keppel, p 18.

(9) Frank Capra, Vie Name Above The Title, pp 351-354.

(10) Ibid, p 353.

(11) Ibid.

(12}Frank Capra, "introduction" to Tom Lewis's unpub
lished autobiography, p vii, cited hereafter as Lewis.
{13)fbid, pp vii - viii.
(14}Ibid, pp 283-284.

(15) lbid,p2S4.

(16) Ibid,p285.

(17) Ibid.

(18) lbid, pp 285-2S6.

(19) Ibid, pp 288-289.

(20) Ibid,p291.

18

CHAPTER 5

THE EARLY DAYS OF ARMED
FORCES RADIO

The directive that established Armed Forces Radio
Service (AFRS) on May 26, 1942, commanded Tom Lewis
to "provide education, information and orientation for
our Armed Forces overseas by means of entertainment
and special events broadcasts'"

To accomplish this, the AFRS was to maintain a
weekly schedule of transcribed radio programs that
would be distributed to the various overseas outlets. In a
report on May 26, 1942, to the radio sub-committee of the
Joint Army and Navy Committee, Tom Lewis interpreted
the order. "It is," he said, "a formal way of saying that the
Armed Forces Radio Sen' ice is directed to assist in
supplying the American soldier with the emotional and
intellectual impetus he needs, in addition to his technical
knowledge and training, to make him a better fighting
man, and to strive to maintain in him the mental attitudes
of a free American."(l)

Lewis acknowledged he had no illusions about his job.
"We're not foolhardy enough to think that we can change
the entire mental attitude of a soldier by the appropriate
use of a loudspeaker. Neither radio nor any other media
can completely reconcile a boy from Grand Rapids to a
military life in Persia. But we can help in his adjustment,
for frequently the dividing line's not too definite between
the soldier who merely submits to his job and to the one
who'll apply himself whole-heartedly to the achievement
of an end."(2)

Lewis had defined his philosophy, found a location for
his operation, and begun putting a staff together. He then
tamed to his two initial objectives. First was to conduct a
scientific survey of the listening habits and attitudes of the
troops. Second was to consolidate all military broadcast-
ing operations under one command.

It took him almost 16 months of continuous effort to
gain control of radio operations such as "Command
Performance" from other agencies. The survey proved
much less of a problem. The Research Branch of the
Special Services Division conducted the study for Lewis
during July and August and produced a report dated
September 3, 1942.

The survey questioned 3,286 enlisted men of the Army
ground forces in fifteen camps from coast to coast. The
researchers found that a little more than half of the troops
listened to the radio at some time on a typical work day.
Peak listening periods were from 6:15 to 7:00 AM, at

midday, and in the evening from 7:00 to 830. Most of the
men listened to the radio in their barracks. In order of
popularity, the favorite types of programs were dance
music, news, comedy, sports, variety, swing music, radio
plays, old familiar music, and quiz programs. The least
Liked programs were serial dramas, classical music, and
hillbilly and western music. Favorite specific programs,
mentioned by more than 20 percent of the men, were
"The Hit Parade," Kay Kyser, and Bob Hope.

While Lewis was in Washington receiving his commis-
sion, Robert Sherwood, the noted playwright and then a
special assistant to President Roosevelt, approached him.
He suggested that he transfer to the office of General
William Donovan. The President had appointed
Donovan as the Coordinator of Information (COI), which
was the forerunner of the Office of War Information and
the United States Information Agency. Sherwood
worried mat the Army's restrictive bureaucracy would
differ with Lewis' own freewheeling style. That would
keep him from fulfilling General Osbom's mandate- The
COI had begun to expand shortwave broadcasting
facilities in August, 1941 and Sherwood assured Lewis
that he "could operate freely there."{3)

Lewis declined the offer, believing that he "should do
the job within the military as I'd been commissioned to
do." Moreover, Donovan's organization might use radio
for its own purposes. Lewis didn't want to take the
chance that the troops would "be propagandized" by COI
programming. Instead, he'd rely on an organization that
reached the men with credibilitv. Despite the turndown,
Sherwood promised to help Lewis in any way possible.
He invited Lewis to take a trip to Alaska to see for himself
the soldiers' needs for information, education and
recreation in the field.(4)

Accepting the opportunity as a chance to gain first-
hand knowledge of the status in the field, Lewis accompa-
nied Murray Brophey, Chief of the COI Overseas Facili-
ties Bureau, to Alaska. For Lewis, the trip provided a
clear-cut picture of the audience he'd be reaching and a
good idea of what to provide in the way of programming.

Lewis later recalled how his driver complained about
not knowing why the military had sent him to Alaska. "I
don't know what's happening, he'd sav. "All I do is drive
VIP's back and forth on this road. I don't know of
anything else."

To Lewis, the confused driver became his image of the
soldier who'd win the war. The chance meeting influ-
enced Lewis' perceptions of Armed Forces Radio as an
"operation by the enlisted man, mostly, for the enlisted
man." If the American fighting forces were going to be
successful, Lewis believed they would have to under-
stand for what they were fighting. Radio could help
provide that information.(5)

19

On the trip, Lewis learned of the existence of the radio
stations at Kodiak and Sitka. He also learned that the
Nome Gvilian Defense Commission had started broad-
casting by a "carrier current" type of transmission that
used existing power lines, telephone lines, pipes, etc., as
conductors for broadcasting waves. The station covered
limited areas such as camps, quartermaster's depots, etc,
and was in essence a closed-circuit radio system.

From studying these small, local, self-help operations,
Lewis acquired the model for future AFRS stations. The
.Alaska trip also helped ham realize and appreciate the
scope of the work to be done. Shortwave transmission
from the United States wouldn't reach the millions of
troops worldwide.

As the first step in solving the problem, Lewis entered
into an informal arrangement with Brophey. AFRS didn't
have a formal budget yet, but Brophey and the COI did.

At Lewis' request, Brophey agreed to transfer some
radio transmitters and operating personnel to expand
coverage to military areas in Alaska and the Aleutians.
He also committed the COI to provide radio coverage for
American troops in the United Kingdom.

In support of the operation, which was to become the
Armed Forces Network (AFN), the COI would supply
Tom Lewis low-powered transmitters and personnel.
He'd also arrange for connecting landlines. In return,
once AFRS had become fully operational, Lewis agreed to
take over the facilities in Great Britain with his own
people. According to Brophey, the official basis for the
COI commitment came from President Roosevelt himself,
declaring that "when they declared peace, he wanted his
voice heard by all the people around the world".(6)

The Lewis-Brophey arrangement provided service to
American forces in both Alaska and Great Britain. More
important, it became the reference point for all AFRS
expansion during the war. In mid-June, however, AFRS
still didn't have a budget and was racing a challenge to its
directive from the Army's Radio Branch, Bureau of Public
Relations. Even worse, the AFRS table of organization
called for only three officers and not a single radio
production or broadcast facility.(T)

With the help of General Munson's aide, Colonel lack
Stanley, Lewis solved the immediate budget problems.
Although Stanley could not expedite approval of the
budget for AFRS, he explained that a fund existed in the
Army earmarked for "the welfare of the enlisted man."

Lewis exclaimed that his project existed for just that
purpose. Stanley replied, "I know how you can borrow
S50.000 from that fund if you sign yourself personally
responsible for it When your budget is approved, you
can pav it back. It'd even expedite getting your budget

approved."(8)

Lewis asked, "what happens if my budget is not

approved?" Shrugging, Stanley observed, "Hell, Tom,
that's like saying "Are we going to win the war?' If we
don't, what good is money anvway? Youll be out
550,000 - and your country." '

Lewis agreed with Stanley's logic, took on the personal
responsibility and used the money to move into his
Hollywood headquarters.

LEWIS GOES TO WASHINGTON

Lewis, accompanied by his wife, Loretta Young, and
his staff went to Washington in July, 1942. There he and
his staff met with Army officials to discuss the structure
and procedures of AFRS and to deal with the challenge of
the Bureau of Public Relations.

In order to provide the troops "a little bit of home,"
Lewis and his group wanted to use discs as the heart of
their effort to deliver bom entertainment and information.
This was in contrast to the Bureau that used the less-than-
dependable shortwave for all their transmissions. AFRS

j would use shortwave onlv as a means to deliver timely
material such as news, sports, and special features.(9J
From the Washington meetings, which included a
session with General Osbom on August 4, the AFRS staff
returned to California with a "Memorandum of Projected
Initial Program Schedule." The radio program activity
would parallel the efforts of the motion pictures and
publications of the Special Service Division. It's activity
would come from two major sources. First, they would
select from commercial network broadcasts "the material
most adaptable for our purposes." Second, they'd use
organization-produced material "to fill specific needs in

i the language and the psychology of the Army."(10)
The memorandum recognized that "commercial
broadcasting can exist only in its relation to the normal
civilian mode of life and is directed to the entire public"
Such broadcasting, it said, "cannot [therefore] wholly
fulfill the needs of the men or soldier-interest in respect to
type of program."

As a result, within the continental United States, AFRS
accepted the "responsibilitv of producing daily a volume
of information and recreational programs for the soldiers'

. exclusive use." AFRS proposed to deliver these programs
to camps in the United States and larger bases abroad by
carrier radio. As troops began to move overseas, AFRS

I would supply a greater volume of material, using short-

: wave broadcasts where possible. W'here locations

1 precluded receiving these broadcasts, the material would

, be delivered by phonograph records.

The memorandum also recognized that seasonal and
climatic phenomena would restrict the troops' outdoor
free time. It stated such a condition "logically leads to an

increase in the amount and variety of program material to
fill these hours which otherwise might become a psycho-

20

logical problem." Such BPR programs as "Command
Performance," "The News From Home," and "Grand-
stand Seat" had been doing, "a consistently good job, but
thev represented] only the beginning of the work to be
done,"

The memo's writers considered the expenses involved
in such an extensive program. While "Command Perfor-
mance" had so far been able to have artists appear
without cost, it couldn't "be expected to provide an
unlimited amount of free service." Fortunately, they were
wrong. Throughout the war, radio and film stars donated
their time regularly and did so without cost to the
government. Their contribution to the war effort relieved
AFRS of the need to negotiate for services. Working
through several leading Hollywood agents, the producers
of the individual programs simply requested particular
entertainers to fulfill requests from the troops or require-
ments of scripts.

"After all," the memorandum maintained, "even'
program that's expressly designed for and directed to the
soldiers overseas, gives to those men a stronger tie with
home and a deeper realization that they're not the
'forgotten' men of 1942." Stars were a necessary part of
ever)' program.

In presenting its schedule of original program material,
the memorandum stressed, "The key-note of the entire
operation of the Radio Section of the Special Services
Division must be flexibility. The schedule of programs
outlined herewith will be constantly subject to change
and improvement. Continuing correlation with the
whole shortwave picture will cause some deviation. As
our research determines which programs are most
effective, we may wish to elaborate on these shows, and
later the formats of others."

The outline included new programs produced by-
Special Services "especially for the entertainment and
information of troops overseas." Commercial network
broadcasts and backlog programs could to be used by
local stations for their own broadcasts. Of all the spe-
cially-created programs, the best was "Mail Call/' which
drew its inspiration from "Command Performance."
According to the writers, the Backlog Program Reserve
(BPR) program "has proved how effective well-produced
shortwave radio programs can be in building morale of
troops overseas. Its record indicates that more programs
should and must be built along these lines."

The other proposed programs included "Music For
Sunday," which featured religious music. Another,
"Yanks On The March," contained "dramatized news of
the war, slanted directly for soldiers abroad, and pre-
sented in the authentic format of the present 'March of
Time.' " There sports, of course, news from the
homefront and symphonies. The memorandum pro-

posed to dub into current network shows "messages
directed especially to information of particular interest to
overseas soldiers. These tie-ins will give the shows a
soldier-slant, which they lack in their original broadcast
form," The Back Log Program Reserve would act as a
reservoir of material with which stations could fill out
their broadcast schedule.

Once in operation, AFRS programming didn't follow
the Projected Program Schedule in all respects. Actual
programming included both military-produced programs
and network staples. Although only a few of the pro-
posed in-house programs were to see the light of day,
"Mail Call," the first AFRS program, survived throughout
the war and beyond.

As a matter of policy and in agreement with the
unions, the service removed all commercials from the
programs that it sent overseas. To ensure better distribu-
tion and quality than could be achieved by shortwave, it
distributed them on discs. As the technicians became
more efficient in recording programs and as distribution
lines became firmly established, they included more and
more network and local programs in the packages sent to
the troops. Instead of a Back Log Reserve, they included
music-only discs in the package for use on locally-
originated programs.

Lewis continued to work in Washington to wrest
control of military broadcast operations from the Bureau
of Public Relations and other war Department agencies.
Soon after he returned from Alaska, the USO agreed to
transfer carrier current stations that it had been operating
to AFRS.

In June, President Roosevelt issued an executive order
transferring the responsibilities of the COI to a new
agency, the Office of War Information (OW1). General
William Donovan, the former Coordinator of Information
(COI), regained and built up a new unit, the Office of
Strategic Services, the forerunner of the Central Intelli-
gence Agency. President Roosevelt appointed Elmer
Davis to head the new OWI.(12)

Davis manifested no interest in relinquishing his
control of the radio operations, maintaining, "The broad-
casts to the Armed Forces were started by one of OWl's
predecessor organizations... and they were going strong
when I came in.,. It was started because nobody else was
doing the job." Consequently, Lewis found himself in
"extensive and often heated negotiations" that finally
involved Dr. Milton Eisenhower, General Osbom, and
certain members of Congress.

In the end, Davis ordered that the OWI would cease
production of troop shows on September 1, 1943, and
made OWI shortwave equipment available to AFRS.
During the periods of its use by AFRS, the service ex-
cluded OWI personnel, with military guards placed on all

21

doors. To Lewis, this was "a big step that enabled us to
develop our 24-hour globe-girdling system of shortwave
operations free of propaganda and totally operated by
soldiers for the welfare of soldiers. Now the average GI
could hear another GI giving out the same news heard by
his family at home. He could depend upon its veracity.
That, I believed, was not only morally correct, it was good
oJ* American common sense."(13)

Lewis had won. The Bureau of Public Relations
accepted the inevitable and turned over control of
"Command Performance" to AFRS on December 15, 1942.
By that date, AFRS was working out of the Fox Studio,
producing its programs and developing its methods of
distribution.

As United States troops started landing on foreign
territory, more stations were beginning to go on the air.

AFRS was off and running.

NOTES -CHAPTER 5

(1) Armed Forces Radio Service, "Progress Report,"
May 26, 1942 - December 1, 1945, p 4, Cited hereafter
as "Progress Report".

(2) Ibid.

(3) Lewis, Autobiography; Lewis interview,
September 15, 1982.

(4) lbid.

(5) Ibid.

(6) Lewis, Autobiography; "Progress Report" pp 13-14.

(7) "Progress Report," p. 13.

(8) Lewis, Autobiography.

(9) Interview with True Boardman, September 8, 1982;
interview with Jerry Lawrence, September 30, 1982;
interview with Bob Lee, September 30, 1982.

(10) "Memorandum of Projected Initial Program
Schedule," N.D./ August 1942.

(11) Ibid.

(12) Lewis, Autobiography.

(13) Ibid.

11

EXPANDING BROADCASTS
INTO FOREIGN LANDS

Tom Lewis learned from his Alaska trip that using
shortwave transmissions to reach troops overseas wasn't
practical for any broadcasts other than news and special
events. He began seeking established outlets abroad that
could earn' AFRS programming, With the help of the
Office of War Information (OVVl) and his own staff. Lewis
negotiated with foreign governments and commercial
stations for use of their radio facilities.

On a reciprocal benefit basis, the AFRS Program
Section bartered the finest programs from American
radio. In return for the programs, they provided airtime
on stations at United States troop locations. It was strictly
barter, no cash changed hands. To protect the rights of
performing artists, musicians, writers and composers who
donated their services, AFRS required that all foreign
commercial stations sign strict agreements. They'd make
no attempt to capitalize on the free talent(l)

AFRS bartered time, too, from government and
commercial stations in Australia and from four stations in
the Hawaiian Islands. Stations in the Middle East, India,
China, and South Africa also signed agreements. By the
end of 1943, a total of 140 overseas government and
commercia] stations were broadcasting AFRS programs to
American troops! Yet. despite the success of securing the
agreements, there were limitations.(2)

Foreign stations had their own established audiences
to satisfy. They could not always clear either the number
of hours nor the ideal timeslots desired by AFRS. In turn.
American troops often didn't have the patience to listen to
French, Arabic, Persian, Hindustani or Chinese language
programs interspersed with the AFRS broadcasts. More-
over, American-style on-the-hour programrning meant
little to broadcasters in the Middle and Far East. Which
made it virtually impossible to produce a stable schedule
that troops could consult. Finally, most of the govern-
ment-owned or overseas commercial transmitters were
old, in a poor state of repair. They had an unfortunate
propensity for going off the air at critical moments.(3)
Lewis struggled to develop Army-operated stations
broadcasting a regular schedule of programs, but the
implementation was not a simple matter. To put a
significant number of stations on the air in all comers of
the globe would require training of broadcasters and
technicians. Readily available, sturdy and reliable
equipment, along with spare parts, would have to be

purchased. A distribution system for programs and a
library of records that could be used in locally-produced
shows would have to be created.

At first, Lewis' organization concerned itself primarily
with program production and distribution. It viewed
planning as only a secondary mission. Also, Lewis hadn't
anticipated expenditures in the initial AFRS budget to
purchase the kind of equipment needed to carry out a
project of such scope.

To create the numbers of small, local stations required,
AFRS received a big assist from the OWL In January,
1943, the War Department had assigned AFRS the
responsibility to install its own facilities overseas operated
"by American soldiers for American soldiers." The OWI
turned over to AFRS all the broadcasting stations they
had installed or were in the process of installing in
Alaska, the Aleutians and the United Kingdom. AFRS
obtained all the necessary approvals and ventured to
acquire the equipment needed to construct complete
stations. Lieutenant Martin Work made the first actual
purchases during a trip across the United States in
December, 1942. A major procurement was then made of
twelve 1,000-watt transmitters and eighteen 250-watt
portable transmitters. They would serve "medium-
powered" stations.

The growing mobility of the American Army de-
manded radio stations that were compact and very
portable. Thev needed to cover a small area and be able
set up or break down in a matter of hours in order to
follow the advance of the troops. In r\pical Yankee
ingenuity, AFRS developed a complete station consisting
of a 50-watt portable transmitter, a music library and a
supply of current transcriptions — aU that could be
packed in five suitcases!

ANDRE BARUCH AND THE AES

While AFRS was working to establish its own stations,
the initial Army Expediuonarv Station overseas sprang
up in much the same manner as the first stations had in
Alaska. As part of the preparations for the invasion of
North Africa, the Adjutant General's Office activated the
First Broadcast Station Operating Detachment on October
1, 1942, at Camp Pickett, Virginia. The unit, composed of
eleven officers and nineteen enlisted men, left Norfolk on
October 22 attached to the 3rd Infantry Division, a
component of the Western Task Force.(4)

Upon their departure, a detail consisting of two officers
and five enlisted men under the command of Lieutenant
Andre Baruch left the Detachment and boarded the U.S.5.
Texas. Its mission; to operate a 5-kilowatt transmitter and
broadcast instructions in French to the native military and
civilian population. This was done in hopes of averting
unnecessary bloodshed when the task force arrived off

23

the coast of North Africa. Throughout the cruise,
Baruch's men operated a monitoring center for all radio
propaganda, both Allied and Axis.

On invasion morning, November 8, Baruch was on the
gun deck of the Texas, with orders to begin broadcasting
at 5:00 AM- He had gotten as far as, "Bon Jour, Mes-
dames et Messieurs, id Andre Baruch when the
coastal batteries attacked and knocked down the radio
antenna, ending his effort. With an eye to posterity, the
former network announcer decided to record a first-
person account of the invasion. Opening his glass-disc
recording machine, he began, "Good morning. It's the
morning of November 8, 1942, an historic time..." He got
no further before the Texas let loose a salvo from its own
battery. The recoil knocked everything awry including
the recording machine. That ended Baruch's career as a
combat commentator.(5)

Landing at Port Lyautey on November 10, Baruch and
his detail rejoined the other members of the First Broad-
cast Station Operating Detachment in Casablanca on the
14th. The Detachment had orders to take over and
operate radio stations in Rabat and Casablanca. How-
ever, the French took over the Rabat station and the
Americans found that no station existed in Casablanca.
So, for the next three weeks the unit had little to do.
Finally one day, while sitting around waiting for orders,
Baruch's executive officer. Lieutenant Houston Brown
proposed that they start a radio station. After some
exploration of the subject, the officers agreed they could
build a transmitter and get on the air. First they'd have to
receive permission from the commanding General. That
was George C. Patton.(6)

After much prodding, Baruch went to Patton's head-
quarters on December 7 and asked to see the General.
Appearing "in all his glory and fury," Patron demanded
to know, "What the "blank" do you want?"

Baruch's explanation apparently struck the right cord.
Perhaps it was because Patton had listened to the first
experimental radio station which AFRS had set up to
train broadcasters at the Desert Training Center at Camp
Young, California. The General had been there preparing
his troops for the African campaign. In any case, Patton
signed a memo giving Baruch permission to open a radio
station in Casablanca.(7)

With Patton's approval in hand, the detachment
borrowed a 250-watt transmitter from the French on
December 9. Unfortunately, the transmitter was designed
for shortwave broadcasts. Brown and his men had to
rebuild it, using material they "comshawed" from Army
and Navy supply depots. With a long horizontal an-
tenna, a Presto turntable and amplifier, a borrowed
microphone and seventeen ten-inch records, the station
went on the air. At noon, December 15, they began, using

the name "The Army Broadcasting Sen-ice - The Voice of
an American Soldier and Sailor." Baruch was proud of
his men. "They had "very little talent [but] a lot of
energy, and a lot of ambition."

The station broadcasted from Noon to 1:00 PM and
from 730 to 9:00 P.M. Prograrruning came from the
detachment itself as individual soldiers and sailors
volunteered their own records-

When Baruch worked with Lewis in New York before
the war, he'd not even heard of AFRS. He "didn't know
[Lewis] was even in the service."(8)

Baruch remembers that even with the scanty material,
the station "was an immediate success. Where the
listeners got their radios from, I don't know, but it seemed
like ever) 1 unit had a radio. We chose the frequency that
was best for reception in the area and started doing fancy
little things. We wrote crazy commercials and wrote
funny little skits. We gave whatever news we could. We
got gossip columns from the United States and stories
about show business and everything that might be of
interest to an American Gl no matter where he was."(9)

Everything was going well until Patton's headquarters
issued a directive on January 1, 1943, instructing all Armv
personnel to vacate the local French radio stations.
Baruch's men scavenged radio parts and pieces of
equipment to build a new transmitter with the increased
power of 300-watts. The station relocated to the same
apartment that housed the Army's radio monitoring
center. They strung an antenna across an open lot to
another building and by January 15, they were back on
the air. It broadcasted from 1 1:00 am to 2:00 PM and from
3:00 PM to 830 PM. On Saturdays, they added more
programming, half-hour, often extending the broadcast to
11:00 PM.(10)

Prograrruning material remained scarce and the station
had to scrounge from wherever it could. Yet, the station's
antenna was parallel to the coast line and the radio waves
skipped off the water giving greater range. Navy ships
were sometimes able to hear the broadcasts from as far
away as 30 miles from shore. As a result, when the sailors
reached Casablanca, they often tracked down the station
and contributed their records to the cause-(ll)

Baruch recalls that he was not alwavs successful in
obtaining records for the station. One of his men came in
one day to say he'd learned of an officer who had some
records of singer Bea Wain. Baruch headed over to the
officer's billet and walked into a room to find it splattered
with pictures of Miss Wain - who also happened to be
Baruch's wife. When Baruch mentioned that he under-
stood the man had some of Wain's records, the officer
began to sing her praises. Finally, Baruch interrupted to
say that he was from the new radio station. Before he
could continue or even tell the officer that Wain was his

wife, the officer responded, "You wanna borrow them?
Forget it. Get your ass out of here." Baruch came back to
the station empty handed and acknowledged his failure
to his men. "I was afraid I was going to get my butt shot
off/'heexplained.{12)

Baruch found that live programs created their own
dangers. Once a Colonel complained to him that the
station should stop "fooling around." He then asked,
"Why don't you do something important and build up
the foot soldier - the infantry?" Baruch asked the Colonel
what he had in mind- He suggested, "Well, put on a
drama, boy, put on a drama." When Baruch noted he
didn't have any actors, scriptwriters, sound effects or
music. The Colonel told him, "Well, I'm sure you can do
it Now.voutryit." Accepting this as tantamount to an
order, Baruch agreed to try.(13)

Baruch found Humphrey Bogart and Frederic March
in Casablanca on a USO tour. They knew him from back
in the States. The two big stars agreed to act in a radio
drama if the station could come up with a script. With
the help of his staff, Baruch produced a radio play titled
"The Infantry-Queen of Battles." They produced the
sound effects, even the sound of live bullets. They found
a recording of Stravinsky's "Firebird Suite" and used it
for background music The show proved "erninently
successful." Even the Colonel liked it.(14)

Despite such problems in acquiring good program-
ming, the station succeeded in filling the obvious need of
providing entertainment for the troops. Sailors aboard
one ship wrote to express their appreciation and enjoy-
ment of the radio programs. "All the men here listen
even' evening and enjoy it very much." The staff of the
local Navy Dispensary wrote to say they noticed every
day "a great improvement in the programs. We feel that
you now have a program not equalled by any at home.
Keep it up; you've accomplished something that was very
much needed here." Another group of sailors thanked
the station for its "splendid job of bringing cheer to the
forces over here in Africa." A group of soldiers from an
ordnance company wrote with its appreciation "for many
pleasant hours of radio entertainment. More power to
you!"(15)

Neither AFRS nor the Special Sen-ices Division had
any idea that the Casablanca station existed. In January,
1943, General Arthur Wilson of the Army Sen-ice Forces
prepared to take over command of the Casablanca area.
As he did, he discussed the matter of troop entertainment
with Colonel ]ohn Stanley of the Information Branch. He
got the Special Sen-ices Division to order a 250-watt and a
1000-watt transmitter to be sent to North Africa. Tom
Lewis dispatched Major Charles Vanda and an enlisted
technician to set up the station for the General.

When they arrived on January 26, Vanda delivered a

memo to General Wilson informing him of the contents of
the shipment of radio equipment It included the two

transmitters, turntables, a recording outfit and a record
library. Vanda advised the General that he could put the
station on the air in ten days with the proper support.(16)
At about the same time he learned that Baruch 's station
was already on the air, Vanda discovered that his trans-
mitters and accompanying equipment hadn't arrived. He
showed little interest in the Baruch's "freelance opera-
tion," but attempted instead to locate his missing equip-
ment and set up his own station. Before he could,
however, the 1st and 2nd Broadcast Station Operating
Detachments received orders on February 19. The orders
relieved them from duty- with the Atlantic Base Section
and assigned them to the Psychological Warfare Branch,
Information and Censorship Section.

General Wilson detailed four officers and thirteen men
of the 1st Operating Detachment to remain and continue
operating the Casablanca station. Four days later, they
received word that the War Department had placed all
radio stations under the Special 5en'ices Divisioa{17)
Vanda finally tracked down his missing equipment
By the end of February, Baruch had an agreement to have
the 1000-watt transmitter assembled and turned over to
his station in Casablanca. The station also received the
rest of the equipment except for the 250-watt transmitter.
That was sent to Ouijda to establish a station for General
Mark Clark's Fifth Army.

As soon as the new equipment became operational
during the first week in March, the Casablanca station
eliminated its original call letters, "ABS" (Army Broad-
casting Service), and substituted the call "An Army
Expeditionan* Station... A Radio Sen-ice for the American
Soldier and Sailor."(18)

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Martin Work from Armed
Forces Radio in Los Angeles had arrived in Casablanca to
investigate the situation in North Africa. Almost immedi-
ately, Work had to arrange to transfer Baruch and his
entire unit to Special Sen-ices after the Psychological
Warfare Branch recalled them. In addition, as a result of
Work's survey, still another 1000-watt transmitter was
sent from the U S. to Algiers so that a station could be
established there, too.(19)

Baruch became Chief of the American Expeditionary
Stations in the North African Theater with Lieutenant
Brown sending as his Executive Officer and Technical
Director. General Eisenhower ordered stations installed
in his Command wherever it was practical to do so. In
Sicily, an American Expeditionan* station was on the air
by August 13, 1943, even though the fighting for the
island did not officially end until August 7. By the end of
January, 1944, eight stations were broadcasting in the
Mediterranean stretching from Casablanca to Naples.(20)

Under the direction of Baruch and Brown, the Mediter-
ranean stations provided programming that was to
become typical throughout the APRS network during
World War II. Besides the regular program package from
Hollywood, the stations featured live talent shows
whenever practicable. These included a choral group in
which the former New York Riverside Church soloist
Richard Wallgren appeared and a Black quartet known as
the Overseas Serenaders. Quiz programs pitting the
sen-ices against each other were also very popular. Each
station had its own request shows on which it played
selections from the AFRS music packages. Following the
mission directive of AFRS, they also featured news at the
prime times of 6:30 to 8:00 AM, at Noon and at dinner
time. They supplemented the national and international
news (received via short wave) with their own local news,
carefully written within the limitations of war theater
censorship. (21)

For the most part, the locally-produced programs
followed the recommendations of letters received from
the stations' audiences. If a sergeant complained that
"jive kept his hives awake", the station would institute 15-
minutes of slumber music at the close of the day. If a
captain could not listen during the regular news periods,
a station would dose the broadcast day with a two-
minute news stimmary.(22)

As time passed in North Africa, requests showed a
definite trend. At the beginning, the men put an empha-
sis on "hot jive." By the end of 1943, however, the battle-
hardened soldiers where asking for sentimental ballads.

The impact on soldiers' morale can be measured from
letters such as the one Baruch received from a sergeant in
an evacuation hospital It stated, "The other evening we
heard swing music and then, This is the American
Expeditionary Station.' Goose pimples ran up and down
our spines, and since then, our morale has increased one
thousand percent. Last week we had a tent full of boys
treated following the Sicilian Campaign. When we turned

to vour swing program, smiles of joy and complete
forgetfulness of their pain came over the faces of the boys.
Words can't express the happiness that your programs
have given to the American soldiers. So, thanks for giving
us a few hours of happiness each day. Good luck!"(23)
Labors had their rewards.

NOTES - CHAPTER 6

(1) Progress Report.

(2) Ibid.

(3) Ibid.

(4) Andre Baruch, 77ie Story of an Army Expeditionary
Stalitm,/n.d. 1943/cited hereafter as Baruch, Story.

(5) Intemew with Andre Baruch, July 8, 1983-

(6) lbid.; Baruch, Story.

(7) Ibid.
(S)Ibid.

(9) Baruch interview.

(10) Baruch, Story.

(11) Baruch interview.

(12) Ibid.

(13) Ibid.

(14) Ibid.

(15) Lerters in AFRTS files, January and February, 1943.

(16) American Expeditionary Stations, North African Theater,
History and Operations,/ x\ A, 1944/, cited hereafter as
Stations History; Captain Charles Vanda to General
Arthur Wilson, January 26, 1943.

(17) fbid.; Baruch, Sfory.

(18) Ibid.

(19) Stations Histonf.

(20) Ibid.; Ralph Carson, On the Air Over Tliere, Libert)-,
December 4, 1943, p 56.

(21) Carson. On tlie Air Over Wiere, p 57.

(22) Ibid.

26

CHAPTER 7

ARMED FORCES PIONEERS
INPROGRAMMING

Programming always remained at the heart of AFRS.
If General Osbom had selected a newsman to create and
run military broadcasting, the whole character of the opera-
tion might have assumed a different personality.
But Osbom didn't select a newsman - he chose Tom
Lewis

Lewis had spent his broadcasting career on the entertain-
ment side of radio. He'd produced programs during the time
when advertising agencies created programming and soldit
directly to the networks. He knew programing.
Hebelieved the entertainment "sideof the house" was
paramount to provide the troops with recreation and relax-
ation. Once he had the audience, he could more readily get
across the military's morale and informational messages. It
was an excellent doctrine, one that would prove correct.
Since Lewis recruited riis original staff from the entertainment
side as well, it was natural that the "Memorandum of
Projected Initial Program Schedule" contained many commer-
cial type programs.

To begin programming as quickly as possible, Lewis
crea ted the AFRS Progam Prod ucrion Sectioa Although his
audience survey was not yet completed, Lewis' original
staffers had thecommercial broadcast experience to analyze
audience preferences, albeit civilian. They'dfind thediffer-
ences to military minimal. Besides, their civilian orientation
diminished the tendencvof armed forcesbroadcasters to
propagandize in military-ese, much to the delight of their
homesick clientele.

Yet, their programming would not be a simple rehash of
civilian fare, Erik Bamouw, in theOffice of Information and
Education, later observed how the new citizen-soldier
audiencedevelopeddifferenttastesfromits civilian interests.
"AJmough civilians in uniform make up theaudience,"he
said, "it is not a civilian audience A new, different life,
remote form familiar surroundings, the constant focus on the
task of war, these conditionits tastes, reactions, and emo-
tional needs. Research-. gives us more detailed insight into
the factors involved. The Army's detailed studies, reports
and analyses on the psychology of the overseas soldier have
formed an invaluable basis on which to proceed. "

Regardless of what reseach said, no one in the beginning
couldbesurewhatnewprogrammingshoudcontain. The
primary concern was simply to get started as quickly as
possible.

The initial programming plan as set forth in the "Memoran-
dum of Projected InitialProgram Schedule," called for
AFRS to develop a series of shows especially for the
servicemen. However, it provided only a tentative idea of
the direction AFI^ programming would take. Major Mann
Holiner, the second AFRS Program Production Section
Chief, explained. "Our audience wasn't available for
questioning that would bring immediate answers. All we
could do was gather all information that was readily
available, to apply our best judgment to the program and
thengotowork."(2)

THE FIRST AFRS SHOWS

The first show that appeared, "Mail Call," retained the
same name as the proposed program in the memo. The
format called for a 30-minu te show prepared weekly with
the cooperation of the major motion picture studios. It
would take the form of a letter written by the folks at home
to a serviceman abroad. The final product more closely
resembled "Command Performance," which wasstillbeing
produced by the Army's Bureau of Public Relations.

The first "Mail Call" was a half-hour, live program,
produced and recorded on August 11, 1942, at the Holly-
wood CBS studios. True Boardman produced it. Bob Lee
and Jerry Law?ence wrote the script. The cast included
Lewis' famous wife, Loretta Young, as the Mistress of
Ceremonies, Bob Hope, Frances Langf ord, and comic Jem*
Colona. Captain Tom McKnight soon replaced Boardman
as the producer. As time went on, many AFRS writers
would routinely contribute scripts for the shows.

The first shows included short sequences form current
motion pictures. After the thirteenth program, the format
changed to featuring a U.S. state. Early programs contained
too much sentimentalism and the explicit messages failed to
help improve troop morale, so the format evolved to
entertainment containingmore implied messages. Ulti-
mately, "Mail Call" became a musical variety show featur-
mgleadingHoll\*\voodentertamersreflectingthe response
of the troops. Anditbecameahit.

Althoughsome disagreementexists, "Melody Roundup"
was likely the second APRS program. Initially transcribed
on August 28, 1942, cowboy crooner Roy Rogers hosted the
first four programs. Subsequentiy.men^teen-minuteshow'
featured many leading Country Western entertainers.

in contrast, "Personal Album," initially recorded on
October 1, 1942, featured Bing Crosby as the host, and more
popular singers. Lieutenant Colonel Ted Sherdeman,
producer of the show, recalled that the original intent of the
program was to feature voice-track announcements of
female singers introducing their commercial recordings.
Female vocalists appeared on twenty-three of the first thirty
quarter-hour shows. Ultimately.thePPSchanged the
format to a completely live show with a featured singer,

27

accompanying artists and an announcer. The guestof the
w*eekspokepersonaUytomeaudience,but,unlike"Com-
mand Performance" and "Mail Call,"hedidn'tdedicate
songs to specific servicemen.

'Tarns for Yanks," which AFR5 first transcribed on
October 3, was an adaptation by Lawrence and Lee from
their civilian program "Nite Cap Yams." The broadcasts
containedfifteen-rninutehimian-intereststoriestoldin
several voices by one man. Frank Graham recorded the
first eighteen programs after which many Hollywood stars
appeared in the series.

"Jubilee," wasa Mann Holiner production, first tran-
scribed for the troops on October 9. Holiner, in civilian life,
had been a specialist in theproduction of black theatricals.
He'dproduced the "Blackbird" reviews on Broadway and
his highly successful show also called "Jubilee," had
launched the careers of man v of the most famous black
variety entertainers. His military version was a legendary
hit

When the Program Production Section (PPS) decided to
use Holiner to create a program featuring black artists, an
origmalplanningmemoproposedaprogram entitled
"Freedom's People. " It would aim "directly for, at, and to
represent the large number of 'colored ' troops." The Army
thought, "Here we can use some of the magnificent re-
corded programs of 'colored' music prepared by the WPA
and by the Office of Education. Because of the importance
of the morale factors involved - this show should develop
into an ambitious production."{3)

Holiner didn't believe the show should be slanted tetany
certain audience. Instead, its entertainment should provide
a morale lift to all troops, white or black. As the production
idea evolved, the PPS decided to produce a fine variety
show using leading talent. To avoid the impression of
slanting the program and so spotlighting the existence of
black-white conflicts within the mili tary, APRS took the
nameofHoliner'ssuccessful radio program "Jubilee."

Ethel Waters. Rex Ingram, Eddie "Rochester" Anderson,
Duke Ellington and his Orchestra and the Hal Johnson
Choir made up the cast for the first program. Charles
Vanda and the civilian writers in Hollywood donated their
time to create the scrip t Theprogram itself established
historical foundations of AFRS policy in regard to blacks
and omerirunority groups. AFRS would produce no
special morale programs for any minority during the war.

In 1944, General Benjamin Davis, the Army's only black
general officer at the time, made a special trip to AFRS
headquarters. He asked that the staff slant "Jubilee" even
more to help improve black morale. Holiner disagreed, but
thestaff thoughtDa\is'sproposalhad merit HoHner
argued that slanting "Jubilee" would bring to light the very
existenceofraceproblemswithin the military. Rather than
improveblackmorale, slanting "Jubilee" would inherently

make it worse Holiner felt that the interests of the Armed
Forces would be best served by completely overlooking the
existenceof such difficulties. He convinced General Davis.

Following the meeting, Truman Gibson Jr., a civilian aide
to Secretary of WarStimson, wrote to Lewis thanking him
for thebriefingshe'd given Davis. Gibson added that the
inspection had convinced him that Lewis's organization
was "easily the best from an administrative point of view
that I've thus far come across. The Assistant Secretary of
War expessed particular interest in my description of your
many activities and vour intentions topresent material
aboutthe'Negoes,'"(4)

When Major Austin Peterson later toured the Pacific,
however, he found that morale was particularly low among
black troops. So he gave priority to requests for black
entertainers appearing on "Command Performance." Until
that time, it had only featured whites. Bob Welch, the
producer ofboth "Command Performance" and "Jubilee,"
responded to the requirement. He put blacks on "CP" and,
if he felt their appearance would enhance the show, he put
white artists on "Jubilee" as well. As a result, both shows
became integra ted.anotherimportant-andfoundational-
precedentforAFRS.(5)

The first religious program, "Music for Sunday,"
debuted on February 2, 1943. [thjghljghted thirty minutes
ofmusicofaUfaithsanddenoirunations. Originally, the
producers assembled "Music forSunday"frommusic
tracks obtained from radiobroadcasts and from other tracks
they got from non-broadcast sources. Occasional!)', the}'
recorded special music tracks for the series. A narration
recorded by an AFRS announcer linked all the segments. It
remained the major religious show.

One of AFRS' most successful ideas was the feature in
"CommandPerforrnance"wheremmeAmericanfighting
man could "command" the talents of any American
performer. To be sure, not all entertainers relished the idea
that they mightbe called at any time to appear on "Com-
mand Performance," "Mail Call" or the other AFRS shows.
Yet, except for Clark Gable, Joan Crawford and a few others
who had real problems appearing in front of a microphone
and a live audience, few entertainers dared to voice objec-
tions when called upon. Fortunately, most saw their
appearances as an opportunity to contribute directly to the
war effort. People like Bob Hope, Doris Day, Edgar Bergen,
Bing Crosby and Jerry Colona became regulars on AFRS
programs.

There were limits to how often artists could be asked to
give of their time. The Memorandum of Projected Initial
Program Scliedule explained, "It is the position of the artists'
organizations that since the government does no t expect an
automobile manufacturer,forexample,whosestock-in-
trade is automobiles, toprovide them free for the armed
forces, neither should the go vernmen t expect a performing

artist, playing an instrument, to providohis talents free.
The organizations generally make exceptions in the cases of
outstanding stars who receive favorable publicity for their
cooperation and who by \irtue of their large incomes can
better afford to contribute toagreaternumber of free
performances."

In order to prevent exploitation of star performers and to
spread the talent around, Tom Lewis created a Talent
Subsection. Sergeants George Rosenberg and Lester Linski
and Corporal Barron Polan composed the group. Before
entering the military, the three had been talent agents with
muchexperienceinartistprocurement. They quickly
developedastandardoperatingprocedure for securing
talent. The AFRS writers of producers of the individual
programs would ask the Talent Subsection to request the
desired performer. In turn, the Subsection would contact
meHoUywoodVicton<orrinu^ee{theHolly\vood
industry-wide crordira ring agen
appearences at no charge to the government. Unless the
artist had a real conflict with his or her schedule, the
entertainernormally agreed to the request.

Few problems developed. Some minor dificulties
occurred when writers, producers and the administrative
staff tried to obtain artists directly. This caused popular
artists to feel putupon. Some expressed reluctance to
accept a request too soon after a previous appearance.
AFRS also had difficulty in obtaining New York talent
becauseof thedistances involved in traveling. Usually the
only time a performer residing in the East appeared was
when he or she visited the West Coast. Finally, overseas
stations sometimes failed to mention a performer's previ-
ous appearance when the entertainer visited the front as
part of a USO tour. That led to more complaints.

For the most part, however, the contribution of those in
meentertair^enthddcannotbeoverestimated Their
appearances on many programs enabled AFRS to produce
these shows in-house. The absence of this capability would
have severely limited the scopeof the entertainment that
AFRS provided. Early on, AFRS began to distribute many
of the commercially-produced programs — first by short
wave and later on discs, however, these commercial shows
didn't focus on the man in uniform like the AFRS programs
did. It was also impossible to include "infomercials" in
them, as the service could do with its own shows.

Nonetheless, the in-house shows notby themselves fill
the broadcast schedules of the stations. Nor could they
alone bring the homefront to the troops in the field and
that was impotant The barren soil of Iwo Jima might seem
less alien if Marines could listen to Jack Benny on Tuesday
night just as they had done in thier own homes. The in-
house productins were unique, but they bore only a general
resemblance tonetworkprogramming. So, forboth
practical and mission reasons, AFRS turned tocommercial

programs for most of its programming.

Robert Sherwood, wartime OWI Ov erseas Division
Chief, tookcredit for developing the practice of deleting
commercial messages on government short wave. Accord-
ing to Sherwood, "The decommercialization wasentirely
my responsibility, I thought it would be a serious mistake
for the United States to speak to the world with the voice of
salesmanship. I met a surprising amount of argument when
IcUrectedmatcorrunerdalsmustbeeliminated. Some
officers insisted that the men liked thecorrunercials, which
made them feel at home. I clinched mv case when hungry
men of Bataan heard a description of the rich, creamy
goodnessof some icecream. It disgusted them."(6)

John Houseman, the East Cost OWI short-wave pro-
gramming chief, reported thatthe OWI deleted commercial
announcements from the beginning. Neither sponsors nor
the various unions complained. (7)

Lewis never considered including commercials in the
domesticprogramsAFRSincludedinitsschedule. When
he approached the ad agencies, networks and commercial
sponsors to use their programs, he received immediate
permission for AFRS to edit and distribute their programs
overseas. Through arrangments with the talent and
musician unions and the copyright owners of ma terial used,
me military received rights to rebroadcast all such material.
The American Federation of Musicians even exempted the
AFRS from regular "stand-by orchestra fee" for the rebroad-
cast of transcribed shows, on the condition that the AFRS
programs contain no commercials.

AFRS had several other reasons fordeciding to"dena-
rure"theirprograms. First, commercial announcements
would tend to make men desire things they couldn't obtain:
ice cream, cola, or cosmetically-enhanced wives or sweet-
hearts. Second, since AFRS couldn't use all commercial
programs, the advertisers on a non-selected program might
suffer disadvantage. Finally, when AFRSbegan to use BBC
facilities to broadcast its programs, BBC policy itself forbade
commercials.

Besides the advertisements, AFRS quickly found it had to
censor material that would give comfort to the enemy,
create morale problems, or ones that just lacked timeliness.
Jokes about coal strikes and defense workers might well not
be funny to a soldier in a foxhole. Public service announce-
ments promoting conservation of scarce materials
might give information to the enemy who surely monitored
AFRSbroadcasts-

Decisions on program selection rested with the AFRS
Program Board. Initially, their choices reflected the prefer-
ences of the .American listening public as a whole. As time
wen t on, however, the Board made changes based on letters
it received. The troops didn't want westerns or programs
featuring juveniles. They liked mystery dramas with a
strong touch of horror. Within the changes, the Program

29

Board still followed the practice of selecting the top-rated
American shows.

Finally, besides the education and information shows
and the commercial broadcasts, AFRS provided news,
sports and special eventsdaily. They applied no censorship
of content to the real-time broadcasts except in the matter of
actualmilitary security.

From the very beginning, Lewis believed that the troops
should receive the same news and information Americans
back home were rerieving, both the good and the bad. The
troops would receive all the news in time by letter anyway.
If AFRS presented the newsaccurately, it would gain
credibility and thereby acceptanceof its educationand
information programming as well. Such acceptance was
very important

Audiences, both civilian and military, who listened to
AFRS, came to trust it's news. Credibility and acceptance.
It took a lot of hard work and some very dedicated people
to accomplish it, but AFRS did it

They had forged still another historv-making legacy.

NOTES - CHAPTER 7

(1) Erik Bamouw, "Radio Programs for Troop Education,"
Education OnfM,Marchl945.pl9.

(2) Mann Holiner in Thomas Lewis's JA\ f C Radio Sub
committee 1 944 Report, January 20, 1944, p 20.

(3) Memoranda m o/Projected Initial Program
Schedule,p27.

(4) Truman Gibson Jr. to Lieu tenant Colonel Thomas
Lewis, May 1944.

(5) AFRS, Negro Policy Memorand urn, n.d. / 1944.

(6) Robert Sherwood to TS. DeLay, Julv 4, 1950.

(7) John Houseman to T.S. DeLay, July 19, 1950.

30

CREATIVE PROCESSING AND
DISTRIBUTION

AFRS expected to use short-wave to deliver its program-
ming overseas. The Coordinator of Information's Office and
later the Office of War Information had used privately-
owned short-wave facilities to carry on its "psychological
warfare" or propaganda campaign. Because the radio assets
of the U. S. were inadequate when compared with both our
Allies and the Axis, Congress appropriated the money
needed for an upgrade to new and more powerful transmit-
ters. By the fall of 1942, the OWI had gained control of all
such facilities,

Tom Lewis determined during his visit to Alaska in June,
1942, that short-wave could not serve as the medium of
delivery in the long term. Nonetheless, AFRS used the OWI
fadlitiesforitsinitialbroadcasts.

In turn, the AFRS prograrnmingbenefited theOWI's
own radio propaganda campaign directed toward the Axis.
The enemy had a strong interest in what the War and Navy
Departments were saying to their fighting men. From
broadcasts, he could possibly learn about the character of
his opposition and how it mightbe expected to fight As a
result, he inclined to reduce his "jamming" of OWI pro-
grams in order toeavesdrop on their broadcasts.

Until AFRS took over all short-wave operations in
September, 1943, it remained a guest of OWI. Coordinating
broadcast schedules was a problem. More serious were the
technical problems of using shortwave to reach troops in
widely sea ttered a reas . Shortwave could carry news, sports,
and other real time features with acceptable quality, but its
recepuonalways remained subject to weather andatmo-
spheric conditions . AFRS couldn't rely on it to provide
regularly-scheduled en tertainmentprogramsthatrequireda
constant, strong signal. Lewis and his staff had to find
another way to broadcast its programs.

THE "BUDDY KIT"

Major Gordon Hittenmark, a Washington D.C. radio
announcer, joined the Morale Services Division in 1 941 to
develop his idea of a "Buddy Kit" for troops in the field.
With a Carnegie Corporation grant of S 100,000, the Morale
Services hired Hollywood recording specialist Irving Fogel
in January, 1942, to help Hittenmark create the "B-Kit" The
completed entertainment packagecon tained a portable
long- and short-wave AC /DC battery receiver.batreries,
antennas, and tubes. The unit also had a hand-wound 78-to-

33-1 / 3 RPM turntable with acoustic and electric pickups
and a supply of needles. The Army provided 4S current
phonc^aphrecordsandhventy-ta
tions of domestic commercial broadcasts. Some of the kits
included a microphone and two small speakers to turn it
into a public address system. To provide additional leisure-
time relaxation, the Army also placed six paperbackbooks
and seven harmonicas in thepackage.'

Hardware came off the shelf but the 33-1 / 3 RPM
transcription represented a new development The radio
industry's 16-inch transcription was too large and made of
heavy, but fragile shellac. With a second 5400,000 Carnegie
grant, Fogel developed a 12-inch, vinyiite disk with 156
grooves to the inch mat would play for fifteen minutes. The
\inyUtetrai^cription\vaslight-weightandnearlyunbreak-
able, and it could withstand cUveisedimaticconditions.

The Radio Section had no funds for obtaining records
and transcriptions for inclusioa So, Fogel explained his
needs to the World Broadcasting Svstem, a New York
transcription production company. Acting as an intermedi-
ary for the Army, the company asked the ad agencies and
stTOnsorstoindudemeirprogramsinthe"BKits". There
was public relations value in keeping their productions and
entertainers before the servicemen and in contributing to the
war effort. Asa result, me broadcasting industry donated
over a million 12-inch transcriptions to the Armv. Unlike the
AFRSdecommercializing of the programs it sent overseas,
the transcriptions sent with the "B Kits" were exactly as
originally aired.

By the time Lewis became head of AFRS in May, 1942,
the Radio Section had produced only a few "B Kits." The
Army gave them to units at ports of embarkation. Once in
the field, the kits provided their rninimal entertainment
package only within rangeof the unit's speakers.

Even so, the B-Kits brought residual benefits to AFRS.
Sending programs on disks directly to the troops was one
way AFRS could distribute its shows without relying on
short-waveorOWI'sfacilities. While obtaining their
transcriptions, Hittenmark and Fogel established excellent
lines of contact They gained access to commercial broad-
casters who could provide program material on a much
larger and more forma! basis.

When Program Production Section hadbegun to
function, Lewis turned his attention to the distribution of his
product. Even with its advantages, delivering broadcasting
bydiskpresentedsomepractical problems.

The AFRS Hollywood location didn't have anywhere
near the processing and pressing capacity of facilities on the
EastCoast. Even so, AFRS manufactured the disks in LA.
Severalthrngscompensatedforanyshortconiingsin
manufacturing locally. First, staffer Irving Fogel a trans-
feree from the Morale Branch, used his contacts in Holly-
wood to get them made. Second, manufacturing in L. A.

31

Several things compensated for any shortcomings
in manufacturing locally. First, staffer Irving Fogel, a
transferee from the Morale Branch, used his contacts in
Hollywood to get them made. Second, manufacturing in
L. A. eliminated any long-distance shipping of the
recording masters, which would have been detrimental
to the quality of the final pressing. Finally, being close to
the manufacturing facilities, AFRS could supervise
editing and decommercializing of the shows.

Before World War II. virtually all network radio
programs were broadcast live. In order to create a
similar schedule in the four rime 2ones, nationwide
shows broadcast twice. Local stations used transcrip-
tions for music libraries, commerdal announcements and
provincial programs, but many of the larger stations had
policies forbidding use of any transcribed materials.
Only the Mutual Broadcasting System allowed transcrip-
tions to be used in its programming nationally or on its
own locally-operated stations. Because live broadcasting
was the norm, few manufacturing plants existed to
produce transcriptions. The major ones were subsidiar-
ies of phonograph record companies located primarily in
New York.

AFRTS faced a major challenge in expanding tran-
scription facilities in the Los Angeles area. They were not
alone in making demands on the transcription industry.
The Treasury Department, the recruiting organizations,
the war information agencies, and many private groups
began using transcriptions to reach radio audiences. The
Army itself, in its early programs to the troops and in
supplying the "B-Kits." added to the demands. Since
Lewis had worked on the creative side of broadcasting,
he had to rely on Fogel's expertise in setting up the
technical aspects of recording the AFRS programs.

Transcribing the programs allowed flexibility for the
field stations to broadcast at the hours best suited to the
troops in each theater. It provided security control over
the material broadcast. Finally, it maintained reception
quality without being at the mercy of climatic conditions
or atmospheric disturbances- By transcribing shows,
AFRS made the best use of talent and was able to give its
programs the widest possible distribution^ 1)

Vinylite transcriptions had several other advantages.
By simply by pressing more disks, AFRS met the needs
of the ever-increasing number of stations, vinylite didn't
collect dust. That meant a lot in areas such as North
Africa and the South Pacific where the coral sand quickly
trashed ordinary records. Finally, vinylite recordings
provided better reproduction of sound than shellac
transcriptions. Besides, war conditions had drastically
decreased supplies of shellac.

Lewis and Fogel faced a major task in developing
facilities that could meet their needs within the West

Coast's small and overtaxed transcription industry.
They used their political influence to help secure neces-
sary building permits and electronic equipment for the
transcription industry to expand their facilities. They
obtained an A-l wartime national priority which assured
that the necessary materials and personnel to build the
facilities and staff the plants would be provided quickly.

With Fogel often away from Hollywood on develop-
mental activities, his deputy, Victor Quan. assumed
much of the responsibility for producing transcriptions.
Quan, before receiving a direct commission as a Captain
in January, 1943, had worked as a chief recording
engineer at CP. MacGregor Studios in Los Angeles.

To serve as recording director for the Technical
' Production Section, Fogel arranged to transfer Technical
Sergeant Edward de la Penna from the Signal Corps to
AFRS. Before his induction in November, 1942, de la
Penna had helped assemble AFRS programs as an
engineer at the Los Angeles Radio Recorders Laborato-
ries.

Neither wire nor tape recording techniques developed
sufficiently until after World War II. So, AFRS made all
its original recordings by using electronically-motivated
needle etchings on acetate disks revolving at 33-1/3
RPM.

AFRS had no studios, recording equipment nor
editing facilities. They rented space as needed. For
programs such as "Command Performance," "Mail
Call," and "Jubilee," performed before live audiences,
they booked studios at NBC, CBS and Don Lee-Mutual.
In order to capture the sounds of the service audience,
they produced parts of "G.l. Journal" at the Hollywood
Canteen.

AFRS sent both it's original programs and the re-
corded domestic shows over telephone lines to commer-
cial recording labs. There, military personnel did the
decommercializing and editing. For the most part, the
recording procedures used were standard to the tran-
scription industry. They etched the sound tracks onto
fifteen-minute recording disks, and used the overlapping
system of recording to insure no loss of signal.

Once they recorded a commercial domestic program,
the editors went to work using the standard industry
"mechanical-electronic" editing process of the industry.
TTie editor listened to the show and wrote down on a
work sheet where deletions were to be made. He then
re-recorded the program, lifting the recording stylus at
the points where the commercials appeared Editors
used the same technique to remove sensitive material
such as jokes about strikes, activities of girlfriends, etc.

This process was simple enough/ but it created gaps
that remained a problem for some time. To deal with it,
the>" tried various plans, including the substitution of

32

background music and informational spots. Despite the
apparent desire of the troops to hear the domestic
programs with the commercials remaining, AFRS
continued to believe the reasons for decommercializing
remained valid. In any case, in February, 1943, AFRS
created the Domestic Rebroadcast Subsection (DRS).
Thev selected Elliot Lewis, no relation to Tom, a Holly-
wood radio actor and producer, to head it. In December,
1943, Dresser DahJstead, also from the Hollywood radio
industry, became Lewis' assistant. Together, they
developed several techniques to fill the holes created by
decommercializing.

Lewis and Dahlstead built a backlog of musical
selections played by the orchestra usually heard during
the program. For example, they collected a special
library of Phil Harris Orchestra music to use on the Jack
Benny Show for which Harris regularly played. Intro-
duced by the show's announcer, they'd simply edit in a
selection from the library. Often, one selection would fill
the complete gap created by decommercializing. Eventu-
ally, DRS developed the technique further by having a
show's announcer and orchestra cut special tracks that
could be inserted. This fit into a program better acousti-
cally than using a track derived from a commercial
recording made under recording studio conditions.

The opening and closing of shows caused special
problems because a show's sponsor and product were
often announced several times. To solve this problem,
Lewis had the cast and orchestra of a program record
special openings and closings and men substituted them
for the domestic segments. The development of these
special tracks led to a third technique where editors
could produce whole new programs from
decommercialized broadcasts. In these programs, like
"Front Line Theater," "Globe Theater," and "Mystery
Theater," actual drama programming came from domes-
tic broadcasts. The orchestra, announcers and masters of
ceremonies cut special opening, closing and linking
tracks to fit the material into the AFRS format

Crucial to the success of substituting special material
was the matching of the acoustical qualities of the
original with the assembled tracks. Listeners could
readily recognize the differences. It was important to
create the feeling that the audience was listening to an
actual broadcast. So, the DRS recorded its tracks in the
same studio as the original program. They even used the
same microphone placement whenever possible. Actual
quality of the final product depended on the ability of the
editor and engineer to combine the various tracks in the
least obstructive manner.

The development of AFRS' editing and assembling
techniques may well have been their most significant
contemporary contribution to the broadcast industry.

The editing techniques themselves were similar to those
used in editing motion pictures. Electronic engineers in
radio understood the process long before World War A.
[ While they used editing techniques on occasion, they
could always re-record a transcribed show containing a
| flaw. Most of the people who joined AFRS had come
from the commercial radio industry. So, it's understand-
able that they produced its early programs in the same
way as the major network shows.

Soon, the Program Production Section began using the
editing techniques developed by the DRS in purring
together its own programs. By the middle of 1943, AFRS
edited most of it's shows down to the correct length from
longer recording sessions. "Command Performance," for
example, usually ran for 45 to 50 minutes, from which
the editors selected the best 30 minutes for the completed
show. Entertainers didn't have to rush to complete their
performances within the time constraints of live pro-
grams. They began to relax, and producers obtained
superior performances for their completed program.

After the war, entertainers began urging their civilian
producers and networks to do their shows by transcrip-
tions instead of the real time format. Bing Crosby in
particular, tried to have his >JBC show done on transcrip-
tion. The network refused to revise its prohibition on
transcriptions to accommodate him, so Crosbv held off
signing a new contract at the end of '45. ABC had no
policy against the use of transcribed shows and was
trying to strengthen its program schedule. So, in the Fall
of '46, Crosby joined ABC and did his show by transcrip-
tions. Most of the other major stars began agitating to do
their shows in the same way. By the 1950-51 season,
most of the major shows were using this technique.

Once AFRS had completed a show's transcription, the
disk had to be processed into a master used to stamp out
the records, The electroplating process used in the
industry for many years was a time-consuming process.
By April, of 1945, AFRS had helped to develop a high-
speed system which cut the processing time in about
half. As a result, AFRS could release special events
1 shows soon after their occurrence.

The final step in the process was the stamping of the
records. The only real question was the manner in which
a show would be put on a disk. Early on. AFRS pressed
transcriptions so that the first half of one program would
be on the first record, and the second half on another.
They recorded another show on the flip sides. When
using two turntables, this format enabled the broadcast-
ing engineer to go from one record to the other with no
gap. However, if he lost one of the two records, or if a
record got damaged enroute, he'd effectively lose two
shows instead of one. So, beginning in May, 1943, AFRS
pressed all its shows back to back on a single record.

33

This decision simplified distribution and production and
the method remained in effect throughout the remainder
of the war.

Since AFRS faced great difficulties in replacing defec-
tive transcriptions, it established careful inspection
procedures throughout the production process, however,
this AFRS operation was little different from what the
industry had been doing before the war.

But, all that would change. Read on.

NOTES - CHAPTER 8

i (1) Thomas Lewis, JANC Radio Subcommittee 1944 Report,
January 20, 1944, p 35.

34

CHAPTER 9

BROADCAST PERSONALITY
MEETS MILITARY PROCEDURE

The soldier listening to Armed Forces Radio during
World War u* had little interest in the process it took to
create programming and deliver it overseas. The man in
the field, like the radio audiences in the United States,
took the music, sports, news and information for granted
— as long as his favorite shows arrived at their scheduled
times. The only names he associated with AFRS were of
the stars themselves. Even so, the staff, with their back-
grounds in commercial radio, gave the organization its
unique character. They ensured its wartime success, and
helped establish precedents that have survived to this
day.

With Tom Lewis as the driving force behind military
radio, the organization approached the sophistication of a
network operation. His staff attempted to function as it
would have in normal commercial setting.

AFRS personnel had reason to feel at home. They were
stationed in Hollywood, first at the Fox Studio on YVest-
em Avenue and then in permanent facilities on Santa
Monica Boulevard. They did the same work with the
same radio stars with whom they'd worked as civilians.
Virtually the entire staff had joined the Army, either
voluntarily or through the draft, yet AFRS had no bar-
racks or military quarters. Instead, those from the Los
Angeles area simply commuted from their homes. Out-
of-towners found their own accommodations. Thus,
except for the uniforms, the life of an AFRS soldier was
not the classical prototype.

Lewis had brought many of his men into AFRS directly
from their commercial radio jobs- He and they had little
or no knowledge of the military. Some had even by-
passed basic training.(l)

On the other hand, the Army considered AFRS a
military organization, and its men were to be soldiers first
and broadcasters second. It was a tricky tightrope Lewis
and his staff walked, between the creative chaos of
broadcasting and the rigid discipline of the Armed Forces.

Creative chaos usually won. For writer Bob Lee, who
helped Lewis draw up the blueprint for AFRS, the
headquarters existed in "a marvelous and creative
confusion." He says it was Lewis' "personal magnetism,
an enormous personal magnetism/' and his prestige that
brought the greatest writers, directors, and musicians to
AFRS. H instilled in them "a loyalty and purpose that

was simply wonderful" Tom Lewis's attitude was "that
of an inspired gardener. He walked from one plot to

another, watered the plants and put fertilizer in where it

was needed." Alan Hewitt, who worked in the
decommercializing unit, said this effort produced "a
fantastic creative staff and a fantastic output every
week"(2)

Tom Lewis ran AFRS as he had his civilian produc-
tions. He created an operation that was much like the
major networks. The Army, on the other hand, had little
experience in dealing with the likes of Tom Lewis and the
commercial radio industry. Since AFRS functioned as a
support agency with few men and a limited budget,
strategic military planners paid him little attention. Lewis
charisma tically navigated through the highest echelons of
both the Army and the broadcasting business and had
little problem filling his material and manpower needs in
Washington. In Hollywood, his staff had the freedom to
create prc^amming that would break new ground and
give birth to a worldwide broadcasting operation on its
own merit.

CHAOS VERSUS THE ARMY

Without exception, Lewis's staff appreciated the
fortunate circumstances that had enabled them to con-
tinue to use their civilian skills while in uniform. Jerry
Hausner, who fulfilled many roles including announcer,
editor and official photographer, was too old to have gone
overseas to combat. He also failed in his request for an
assignment to the AFRS station in Rome after it's libera-
tioa(3)

Alan Hewitt worked with Hausner. He remembers
that some of the men "felt self-conscious" about being in
Hollywood and put in for overseas duty. "O.K., 1 wore
glasses then," he said. "I was near-sighted. Oddly
enough, I qualified as a sharpshooter with a rifle, and I
never had known anything about guns. It was unlikely
that 1 was going to see service in the trenches, but I could
have worked at radio stations whether in Asia or Europe.
I don't think any of us suspected that we'd really see
combat, but being energetic and imaginative people, there
was an experience, a personal experience, to be had from
going overseas."(4)

The Army did recognize the possible effect that their
office environment might have on the staff's morale.
Hewitt recalls that officers came out from Washington to
give pep talks. He told us "not to feel guilt)' because we
were here, not to feel any shame about not being overseas
when our friends and people were getting killed. We
should not feel shame or guilt because we were doing a
very important job. We got those morale talks several
times."(5)

While they did not assume the risks of death, the men

35

in the AFRS headquarters otherwise worked just like any
other soldier. They carried out their assignments without
reference to the clock or themselves personally. It was a
"rather bizarre exotic place" writer Lloyd Shearer found
when he transferred to AFRS in 1943, referring to the
juxtaposition of his profession and the Army.(6)

Each man who worked at AFRS headquarters has his
own recollections of life as a soldier/broadcaster in
wartime Hollywood. Writers such as Sherwood Schwartz
were able to ply their craft in the service much as they had
in commercial radio. For Schwartz, however, the transi-
tion from writing for Bob Hope to writing AFRS pro-
grams proved to be "extraordinary." One week he was
touring Army camps with Hope writing shows and
having dinner with generals. Two weeks later, he was
undergoing basic training with buck privates.

After his induction, Schwartz tried to arrange for an
irrmiediateassigrunenttohisdviliansr^alty. Unfortu-
nately, when he ended up doing his eight weeks of basic
training, he lost hope of becoming a broadcaster. The
very day before his unit shipped out to the Aleutians,
Schwartz received orders to report to AFRS, He was
delighted.

"Considering what I knew about myself as a fighting
man with a rifle shooting at somebody, anything I could
do at a typewriter would be better. I'm convinced of
that."(7)

Once settled into AFRS, Schwartz resumed writing
comedy, producing sequences for all the major shows and
responding to calls from the directors "where the need
arose." Schwartz recalls his most memorable Army
experience, which also produced "the biggest laugh I've
ever had in my life."

"We were working on the two-part Dick Tracy Wed-
ding.' It featured Crosby as Tracy, Bob Hope as Flat Top,
Frank Sinatra as Shakey, and Jimmy Durante as the Mole.
Catching Flat Top in the midst of a crime, Tracy con-
fronted him, This is Dick Tracy. Stick'emup.' In rum,
Shakey surprised Tracy and ordered him to "Srick'em up.'
The Mole was then to appear with the same command.
Instead of saying 'Stick em up,' Durante ad libbed, 'Stick
if up! Hot dog!' That produced a-seven-minute laugh
from the soldier audience attending the session"

That ad lib might have worked in civilian life, but this
was the Army. As Schwartz ruefully recalls, the censor
found the dialogue more than offensive and excised the
whole scene "because that was not fit for soldiers'
ears."(8)

Such censorship problems were, of course, not unique
to AFRS writers during the 1940's. What Schwartz and his
fellow staffers hadn't faced during their civilian radio
days was the Army's attempt to impose military disci-
pline onto AFRS. As one can imagine, a general disregard

of Army regulations developed within the professionals
within their first year. So, the Army assigned a regular
officer to AFRS, Captain Virginal Petito. Petito, who'd
been serving as the Adjutant to Frank Capra's film unit,
became Lewis's Adjutant with orders to straighten up the
radio soldiers.

He was very "GI" and very eager. "You guys are in
the Army now. I don't give a damn whether you're going
to do radio shows or not, you're going to fulfill your
I military' duties. So you're gonna stand inspection every

morning." Petito initiated an 0600 roll call and drill,
I before going to their offices and beginning work. Then
the trouble started.(9)

Schwartz said trying to write jokes at 6:15 in the
morning was "a little much." As a result, he and his
! colleagues initially just ignored Petito's efforts. Hausner
said, "the guy doesn't know what the hell we're supposed
to do here. We know the Commanding Officer well
enough to call him by his first name- This guy has no
power at all unless we give him power."

So, with roll call over, the men fell into the habit of
going to breakfast. As Schwartz explained, they'd come
back "at a more reasonable hour, like 7:30, and start the
mind going on funny things."(10)

Now, Petito believed the Army was the Army. Once
he realized what was happening, he posted a nonce.
Anybody who failed to go immediately to his desk after
roll call would be put on work detail policing the
grounds. In company defiance, Schwartz and his col-
leagues went off to breakfast the next morning anyway.
They returned to find the officer waiting with orders to
get into fatigues and pull the weeds from the officers'
parking lot(ll)

When the other AFRS officers arrived for work that
day, Austin Peterson, one of Lewis's original recruits and
top aides, demanded to know what was going on. One of
the men explained, "Well, we were naught)' and we're
pulling weeds as punishment"

"Who's writing the week's programs?" he asked.
"Who knows?" was the response, citing only Petito's
orders. Peterson headed straight for Petito's office.

"Captain, if you have men who pull weeds for a living,
would you have them write jokes as punishment?" He
continued, "When you have men who write jokes, you
cannot punish them by making them pull weeds."(12)
Petito didn't give up easily, on occasion, he'd call a
meeting of the entire staff to inform them that they were
going to observe military courtesy. "Everybody'd listen
and then go on about doing whatever they had to do."
Petito slowly "got the message that there were other
things to do and that we couldn't spend all our time just
, keeping house and plaving Armv," Jerrv Hausner
i said.{13)

36

Military rank had no meaning. As in civilian broad-
casting, money and svmbols of status didn't matter

during the creative process. As a Chilian writer, Schwartz

often had to work as an equal partner with a producer
who earned less than he did- "Money doesn't matter in
the creative process, and neither does rank. In a creative
situation, it's only opinion and arrival at the truth," states
Schwartz.(U)

At AFRS, Private Bob Welch, the producer of "Com-
mand Performance," would tell Sergeant George
Rosenberg, the talent producer, which stars he needed for
his program. During the show, Welch would direct
Major Meredith Wilson, the conductor of the orchestra.

Lester Linsk, a talent agent in civilian life and one of
the talent recruiters for AFRS, also remembers how little
heed Private Welch paid to rank In preparation for the
first visit to AFRS by senior commanders from Washing-
ton, Lewis prepared the staff to brief the contingent on
each of their jobs. When the officers arrived in Welch's
office, he was on the phone, apparently involved in a very
important conversation. In truth, he was talking with
Linsk who was telling him that the officers were on their
way upstairs. Instead of immediately standing up and
launching into his presentation, Welch continued to talk
with Linsk while balancing from foot to foot. Finally, he
looked up kind of sheepishly, talked some more and
hung up. Then he explained to the general that he was
talking with Lester Linsk, as if linsk were someone of the
importance of Eisenhower. The general never questioned

On occasion, Tom Lewis would have to argue with
Washingtoa If the military wanted radio, it would have
to accept their flexibility and even a lack of overt activity.
On one inspection trip, for example, a general discovered
a writer in his cubical in front of a typewriter staring into
space. He finally asked the man what he did. When he
responded, "I'm a writer. Sir," the general observed, "I've
been standing here for five minutes and you haven't
written a word!"

Linsk acknowledges that some staff members may
have respected rank and military command more than
others. AFRS presented an unusual circumstance.

"I, for example, was the producer of 'Showtime'
featuring Dinah Shore. I'd sit in the control room with the
rank of sergeant, 1 think ultimately a tech sergeant, telling
colonels what to do. How much military chain of com-
mand can you have under those conditions?" Linsk
accepted the reality that he was in the Army all right.
He'd have to perform such functions as polishing his belt
buckle "to the extent that you had to. In that respect
AFRS was a peculiar beast and you couldn't 'Sir' every-
body because that was not the way it worked."(17)

Officers in charge of the decommercializing unit were

responsible for supervising the work. "We knew far more
about this than they did and I don't think they ever

overruled us on anything,'' recalled Hewitt. Protocol

never entered into the daily life of the headquarters. "We
were discreetly on a first-name basis with all the officers."

Despite his failure to be sent overseas, Alan Hewitt
acknowledged the contribution which he and his fellow
broadcasters made to the war effort. "We had proof of it
in the mail that we got from overseas. We had pitches on
lob of shows for requests from the soldiers on what the;'
wanted to hear. We had tremendous mail everv week,
tremendous. In those letters, we'd get firsthand feedback
from people telling us what a good job we were doing
and how important AFRS was to them."{20)

Unlike some of his more enthusiastic colleagues,
Schwarte had a more realistic view of the contribution his
AFRS career had on the war effort Even considering his
agent's plea to write a play about AFRS once he'd re-
turned to Chilian life, Schwartz said he didn't think the
postwar generation would "find the efforts of people such
as we were, dramatically important in the war." Rather
than helping to win the conflict, AFRS was simply "doing
a job to help the people who were winning the war. In
that sense, we were helping. Certain! v, we weren't
[ourselves] winning the war.'"(21)

Schwartz finally convinced "Command Performance"
producer Bob Welch, who did want to write the play
about AFRS, that there had been no drama in their work.
No one had gotten shot. No bombs had gone off. No one
had died on Santa Monica Boulevard putting out their
programs. "Whether we write a better or worse joke for a
'Command Performance' or whether Bob Hope does it or
some lesser known person does it, is not earth shaking.
It's not going to shake people or upset them. No play can
be written where nothing is at stake."(22)

Actor Howard Duff, who had a better view than most
of the actual contribution which AFRS made to the war
effort, agrees with Schwartz. After spending two years in
an infantry unit, he arrived at the Hollywood office in
1943. He worked in the decommerciabzing unit and did
some producing, and then went to the Pacific as an AFRS
correspondent. From there, he went to two Jima where
he started the island's radio station.

While acknowledging the success of AFRS in produc-
ing so many programs every week, Duff observed, "God
knows, we didn't win any engagements. 1 don't know
that we thought we were ever doing anything important.
We thought we were doing something useful. At least 1
did. I don't think we were moving any worlds. Heck,
no."(23)

The information mission of AFRS, which Generals
Marshall and Osbom considered as its primary role, at
times may have seemed secondary to its entertainment

37

function. The entertainment side surely wouldn't win the
war. As Duff points out, "there was nothing for guys to
do in many areas, those who were not actually fighting,
except to hang around and listen to the radio. From that
standpoint, 1 guess we helped them."(24)

Early AFRS was simply a composition of broadcasting
professionals doing what they did best. Thev were
sincere. They were soldiers. They worked hard and long.
They were where they belonged.

Ask any soldier whom they touched with their "little
bit of home," and the reply is quickly forthcoming.

"Man, they sure helped-"

Now, it was time to expand.

NOTES - CHAPTER 9

(1) Symposium, July 13, 1983.

(2) Interview with Jerry Lee, September 30, 1982;
Interview with Alan Hewitt, January* 2, 1983.

(3) Interview* with Jem' Hausner, July 2, 1983.

(4) Hewitt Interview.

(5) Ibid.

(6) Interview with Uoyd Shearer, July 7, 1983.

(7) Interview with Sherwood Schwartz, August 1, 19S3.

(8) Ibid.

(9) Ibid; Hausner Interview.

(10) Ibid.

(11) Schwartz Interview.

(12) Ibid

(13) Interview with Lester Linsk, June 27, 1983;
Hausner inteview.

(14) Schwartz Interview.

(15) Ibid.

(16) Ibid.

(17) Linsk Interview.

(18) Hewitt Interview.

(19) Shearer Interview.

(20) Hewitt Interview.

(21) Schwartz Interview.

(22) Ibid.

(23) Interview with Howard Duff, June 27, 1983.

(24) Ibid.

38

CHAPTER 10

INTER-ALLIED BROADCASTING

If Tom Lewis and AFRS were going to fulfill their
mission, they'd have to broadcast to as large an audience
of defense personnel as possible. To get that done, AFRS
networks and stations had to be established operations by
full-time military broadcasters to reach the troops as thev
moved to the theaters of operation.

THE ARMED FORCES NETWORK (AFN)

The European operation became known as the
American Forces Network (AFN). It began with Tom
Lewis's trip to Alaska in June, 1942, with Murray Brophy
of the War Department's Office of Coordinator of
Information. The visit proved to Lewis the great advan-
tage which local radio stations offered over shortwave in
the delivery of the AFRS package.

The British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) provided
programs in a language that the American troops could
understand. Yet, to the average American serviceman
used to the high-powered, star-laden, commercial
programs back home, the BBC fare paled in impact The
BBC owned and operated all the radio stations through-
out the British Isles. Their limited variety of program-
ming leaned to the heavy classical type of music, drama
and literature. There was an almost complete absence of
American news, sports and entertainers, and the troops
had to contend with the British accents.

The British military accepted the value of providing
armed forces radio to its troops. The BBC launched its
"Forces Programme" on February 1, 1940. They directed
their radio service initially to the British soldiers in France.
After Dunkirk, they focused programming on troops
garrisoned throughout Great Britain. Finally, the military
broadcast became an alternative to the regular BBC
schedule not only for the armed forces, but also to the
civilian population.

Meanwhile, Lewis and Brophy reached an informal
arrangement on how to provide American radio to US.
troops in Great Britain. As a representative of the COI,
Brophy promised to negotiate an agreement with British
authorities He'd supply low-powered transmitters,
temporary personnel, and arrange for connecting
landlines. In rum, Lewis agreed to take over the opera-
tion, man it and maintain it, once AFRS had begun to
function and could operate overseas facilities.{l)

During a trip to England late in the summer, Brophy
met with General George Marshall and discussed the *

need to establish an American radio outlet. He empha-
sized the value of providing American news and enter-
tainment while creating a medium for the Theater

Commanding General to communicate with his troops.
Since Marshall had been instrumental in establishing
AFRS, he supported Brophy's effort. However, the BBC
controlled the airwaves. If he was to reach an agreement,
Brophy faced more of a diplomatic problem than a
military one. (2)

Brophy foUowed-up his request of Marshall, and sent
Brewster Morgan, the organization's Chief of Broadcast-
ing, to England. There, Morgan would prepare a report.
He delivered it to General Eisenhower on November 1,
1942. A few days later, Morgan received a call from
General E. S. Hughes, the European Theater Deputy Chief
of Staff, to come to his office. Fiughes told Morgan that
the Theater Commander would approve the creation of
an American radio network on an experimental basis.
They agreed that twelve transmitters would be sufficient
for the experiment.{3) Overseas broadcasting was on its
way.

The OWI then got an agreement from the BBC. They'd
allow the Americans to set up a network "as an additional
BBC service." Once the BBC approved the operation, it
provided the OWI with facilities. At the same time, the
BBC imposed it's own program materia] restrictions on
the American broadcasts. These included censorship of
questionable lyrics and writings and compliance with
British copyright regulations.

With the OW1-BBC agreement in hand, the American
Command formally approved the creation of the Ameri-
can Forces Network (AFN) on March 15, 1943. It desig-
nated the OWI as the agent to negotiate with the Wireless
Telegraphy Board - the British counterpart of the Federal
Communications Commission. OWI would work out the
details of the agreement. Since British law gave the BBC a
monopoly for radio broadcasting, Morgan and Guy Delia
Cioppa, another OWI employee, had to obtain a waiver to
operate. Thev* then received a license from the Wireless
Telegraphy Board to establish a broadcasting network of
50-watt transmitters operating on two assigned frequen-
des.(4)

Morgan and Delia Cioppa immediately procured the
original equipment for the stations and secured operating
agreements between the OWI, the U. S.Armv, and the
BBC. The OUT ordered twenty-eight of the 50-watt
transmitters from the TWT Company in Los Angeles.
After AFRS assumed control of the operation, it acquired
twenty-five more transmitters from the same company.
They borrowed studio equipment and telephone
landlines from the BBC.

To install the transmitters and related equipment, the
OWI turned to the U.S. Army Signal Corps. Captain

39

Lloyd Sigmon, who had worked at station KMPC in Los
Angeles, had received a direct commission into the Signal
Corps. He received orders in late Spring to prepare for an
overseas assignment. He was to have sixteen radio
engineers under his command. Soon he was in England,
but he had not yet received orders detailing how the
project was to be accomplished, and he found his men
were scattered throughout England doing other work.{5)

Eventually, the OWI tracked down Sigmon, located his
men, and directed him to put the first four AFN stations
on-the-air by July 4. As Sigmon recalls, the assignment
"was ready to do" because the transmitters, made in the
United States, came with a complete package. Each
included the 50-watt transmitter, the antennas, and other
equipment. His most difficult task was to find locations
on each base to install the equipment(6)

Since the BBC didn't want the AFN programs to
compete with its own audience in London, no station
could be installed in or near England's largest city. The
closest an AFN transmitter could be located was Oxford.
To provide radio service to American servicemen sta-
tioned in London, Sigmon's engineers built an elaborate
sound system similar to that used by the Musak Com-
pany. This included public address systems in buildings
used by the American military, which they connected to
AFN Headquarters by landline. The remote transmitters
they initially sited were almost exclusively on Air Force
bases- In the months before the Normandy invasion, they
got transmitters installed in the Army assembly areas.
According to Sigmon, the stations were very simple.
Despite the low power that theoreticaUy would only
reach to the perimeters of the bases, the signal sometimes
reached into British homes. During the summer, Sigmon
reca l ls, "American programs could be heard through the
open windows."(7)

While the technical work was underway, Morgan
drew up detailed plans for an organization that called for
OWI personnel to be in charge of the facilities. Army
personnel provided the programming.

AFRS created a Board of Directors on June 25, 1943 to
supervise the operation. Included were the (Theater)
Chief of Special Services and the Special Services Radio
Officer, the Chief of Public Relations and the Public
Relations Press Officer, the Chief Signal Corps Officer and
the Chief of Administration. From the OWI came the
Chief Engineer and Chief of Broadcasting Europe,

The Program Committee members included the
Theater Public Relations Radio Officer and the Special
Services Radio Officer, the OWI Chief of Broadcasting in
Europe and a BBC Program Representative. Morgan
selected Lieutenant Colonel Charles Gumey to be the
Theater Radio Officer. In this capacity Gumey became
the first chief of AFN. Captain John Hayes became his

assistant By May, 1943, they had assembled a staff of
four officers and thirteen enlisted men.

Gumey and Hayes adopted their operating philosophy
from Murray Brophy's conversations with Eisenhower.
These meetings had led the General to approve the
creation of AFN in the first place. Captain Haves later
recalled that AFN had received a mandate "to supply
.American military personnel in Europe with a radio
programming service for the information, education and
entertainment of such personnel." The radio service itself
was to "be as much a duplication of American broadcast-
ing at home as it was possible to achieve overseas."(8)

AFN would be functioning in a war zone. That
became an immediate problem in carrying out
Eisenhower 1 s directive. As the network was being put
together, John Hayes spent considerable time discussing
the problem of censorship. He involved the OWI, the
BBC, the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation and the U.
S. military services. Finally, he reached a consensus with
Eisenhower's staff. The only censorship would be in the
area of military security. There would be no other
censorship "except the self-disciplines exercised by our
various program directors concerning taste, tact and the
sensibilities of our Allies. The normal restraints of the
American system of free broadcasting will also be
adopted."(9)

To fill the broadcast schedule, AFN secured program
material from the major networks and from local stations
across the United States. Some musical entertainment
came from the BBC, particularly the BBC Symphony- In
addition, AFN secured program material produced in
England from local commands and at its own headquar-
ters. AFN had its own news department which got its
material from the major wire services and what its staff
gathered in the field. Finally, AFN broadcast "informa-
tional programming designed to sustain the combat
morale of our military services and to supply such
personnel with orientation about the nature of the enemy,
the necessity for victory, etc. All were prepared by the
military program staff at the central headquarters of the
American Forces Network"(10)

All the entertainment programming from the United
States was to bear the AFRS signature- Likewise, a
considerable portion of the information and education
material, which the Army produced in Washington,
arrived via AFRS. AFN did identify Armed Forces Radio
as the primary source of prograxnming. In some cases,
announcers eliminated some of the references to AFRS in
order to establish the network's own identity. Ultimately,
this policy led AFN to become a virtually autonomous
operation. Except for overall AFRS, and later AFRTS,
policy and the use of broadcast materials from AFRTS,
the network remained under the direct control of the

40

United States Command in Europe until the formation of
the Army Broadcasting Service in 1980.

AFN shared with AFRS, the mission of supplying the

troops with entertainment, information and news. It also
shared the goal of obtaining credibility by insuring an
unfettered news operation within the limits of security.

Hayes recalls the conclusions to formulating AFN
news policies. "For the .American Forces Network to have
credibility among the listening audience, no material
would be rebroadcast from OWI sources. Neither would
they use any material prepared by OWI or by the Psycho-
logical Branches of the military or civilian authorities. It
seemed quite basic that the AFN should confine itself
solely to programming for American military and
dvilian-arrached personnel. If any material broadcast was
heard by either ally or enemy, this fact should have no
basic consideration in the Network programming/'

To Hayes, it became a decision of "cardinal faith that
.American personnel in the European Theater should
never be subjected to any broadcast heard over AFN that
might be construed as propaganda. No commentary,
news analysis or hard news would be prepared by
anyone other than personnel of the American Forces
Network. Any other action would have led to the
conclusion by the audience that the American Forces
Network was being used as a propaganda arm of the
Government "(11)

The implementation of these policies began on July 4,
1943, when the Network launched its broadcast day with
"The Star Spangled Banner." They located the first AFN
studios at 11 Carlos Place in London. By early 1944, the
network had increased its schedule to eighty-seven hours
a week with about thirty* hours coming from AFRS. They ,
allotted seven and one-half hours to news and the rest to
locally-produced and BBC programs,

AFRS' Tom Lewis arrived to supervise preparations
for American broadcasting to the troops following D-Day.
By mat time, John Hayes had succeeded Colonel Gumey
as OIC of AFN and the headquarters was in the process of
moving to SO Portland Place.

TOP BRASS GET INVOLVED

After the allied invasion, Lewis set about to arrange for
AFN broadcasts to the troops. He immediately found
himself in the center of a controversy raging at Supreme
Headquarters. British and .American planners differed
radically on the way radio programming should be sent
to the troops. Like Boardman in Alaska, Lewis soon
discovered that orders from General Osborne (the
"civilian general") didn't carry much weight in the theater
of operations. As a "reputed communications expert"
and the commandant of the American radio operation,
Lewis believed that the British position of maintaining a

separate broadcast operation for each nation's military-
was correct. However, he came into immediate conflict

with General Ray Barker, General Eisenhower's Commu-
nications Officer. Barker was the author of a plan to
combine the separate British, American and Canadian
operations into an Allied Expeditionary Forces Radio
Program.

According to Lewis, General Barker "believed he'd
created something new in a field so new to him, and he
held to it despite all opposition." Lewis felt he was
"deadlocked in opposition to General Barker because
Barker had access to General Eisenhower's ear."

For several weeks, Lewis found himself "blocked and
frustrated" by Barker who he felt, "didn't know what the
American Armed Forces Radio Service was all about. It
was designed to keep American soldiers and sailors in
touch with the sounds and news of home - by means of
free, undoctored public communications. By changing
the whole concept into a joint British- American mish-
mash, he negated everything we'd accomplished so far. I
searched my soul for a way to help him understand what
mischief his stubbornness could bring to pass."(14)

Lewis introduced a plan of action for AFRS following
D-Day. Accompanied by Arthur Page, a civilian consult-
ant to Secretary of War Stimson, he took it to the General.
The plan, dated May 20, 1944, called for AFN to use one
of the high-powered BBC transmitters on the Channel
coast to broadcast to the American troops. The BBC
would use the second transmitter for its "General Forces
Programme." AFN would man mobile stations attached
to each of the advancing American armies. Fixed stations
would be installed in France as soon as practicable.(15)

Barker read the proposal. Lewis explained that it
would require the General's endorsement and General
Eisenhower's signature.

After reading it a second time, Barker responded.
"This is, 1 take it, a complete reversal of the plan of
operation I've told you I'm in favor of for radio on D-Dav
plus."

Lewis responded, "It's a restatement of the plan I
outlined to you, Sir, the one upon which the AFRS was
founded. It's a plan which I and others competent to
judge, believe to be correct. 1 cannot endorse a plan
which my professional judgment tells me is a mistake. It
is submitted for General Eisenhower's signature, only, of
course, upon your approval, Sir."(16)

Barker's anger was vivid. "I do not approve! Colonel
Lewis, career Army men like myself sometimes wonder
why it was necessary to give such rank to civilian special-
ists like yourself when men older than you have worked
their entire lives for such rank."

Lewis tried to explain his theory of military rank -
about which of course he knew little. Barker vehemently

broke in. "I understand the theory, Colonel Lewis.
Now, you understand this. Only one thing wins wars,
Colonel, leadership! Not radio leadership, not Madison
Avenue leadership, not Hollywood leadership. Military
leadership! General Pershing did not need radio speak-
ers in the First World War. Remember that!"

Lewis launched into a statement of his and General
Osborne's prejudicial view that radio was important to
the success of the war effort. Radio had not existed
during World War I, he noted The issues in that war
were comparatively simple. His radio unit and Frank
Capra's film unit were trying to tell the United States
.Armed Forces whv thev were fighting, who was leading
them, the nature of their enemies and the nature of their
allies. Their campaign strived "to bring General
Eisenhower close to the thousands of men of different
nationalities that he now commands." It was a very
successful campaign. It brought the Supreme Com-
mander into intimate contact with his men, all his men in
the coming invasion, not just his American men.

"Now thev know him, thev admire him. Among
themselves, they call him 'Ike.' He's with them, General,
not apart from them. He understands them- He respects
and admires their individual nationalistic differences
and shares with them our common goals in this war.
That's what I'm trying to preserve in this directive.
That's what the British themselves are trying to tell
us. "(17)

It was a well expressed arguement. Barker, however,
was not impressed. He'd send General Osborne a letter
of commendation for Lewis' efforts. Colonel Lewis
could deliver it in person, thereby removing him from
the events that were about to take place along the French
Coast.

Lewis persisted. "Nothing I can say will change your
mind about the radio operation. Sir?" Barker didn't
answer. Although the general called Lewis as he was
about to board his plane at Prestwich, he'd not changed
his mind, knowing that the invasion was about to take
place.(l8)

Lewis fully understood the monopoly which the BBC
had on broadcasting in the British Isles. During his stay
in England, he "had intensive contact and conversation
with the BBC from the Director on down." They agreed
that each service should have its own radio operation.
However, as Lewis later admitted, he was "too little
aware of the decision making process" within Supreme
Headquarters Allied ExpecUtionary Forces (SHAFE). If
he'd been privy to General Eisenhower's intentions, he
might have saved himself the time he spent trying to
maintain separate radio services following D-Day, June
6, 1944.

Eisenhower placed priority on integrating the British,

Canadian and American forces under his command On
May 19, 1944, General Barker met with the Minister of
Information William Haley, the new Director General of
the BBC Brendan Bracken (Barker's counterpart),
Brigadier Bosvile and American Colonel Edward Kirby.
Kirby had just flown in from Washington.

Initially, the discussion centered on securing the
release of the BBC transmitter at Start Point, which the
combined radio service was to use unencumbered with
the BBC policy of program control.(19)

Director-General Bracken informed the group, "The
BBC Board of Governors are unanimous that such an
allied radio service is impractical. Barker reacted in
much the same way he had with Lewis, violent and
angry. Eisenhower and his staff had already approved
the plan for a unified operation. The meeting here was
only to negotiate the terms of a lease for a transmitter,
not to debate the plan. The Supreme Commander saw
radio as the instrument for reaching all his troops
simultaneously, something that couldn't happen if each
service had its own broadcast operation.(20)

Bracken told Barker, "You Americans are too senti-
mentally persuaded. How can we meet the interests and
tastes of two different armies with only one service?

"Let's be practical. For example, you have that fellow
Bob Hope, very funny to your people, not funny to ours.
Now, we have a fellow named Tommv Trindler [a
leading British comic]. I doubt if your people can
understand what he is saying, much less laugh at him."

He then reiterated that the BBC Board had never had
such "unanimity" on the question. It remained quite
"adamant" on the subject(21)

Barker was not about to accept this as the final word.
He told Bracken, "I believe it vital, not only to the
winning of this war, but to the welfare of our two
peoples to bring them together in bonds of understand-
ing and friendship. Through this Allied radio service,
we have the means at hand to lav the foundation. I
cannot in good conscience accept the decision of the BBC
Board and will so report to General Eisenhower. I shall
ask for reconsideration-on the highest level, if neces-
sary."(22)

DECISIONS FROM THE TOP:
EISENHOWER CONFRONTS CHURCHILL

In rum, Eisenhower wrote to Churchill making a
formal request that the BBC accept the plan for a com-
bined broadcast operation. Churchill wrote to Bracken,
giving him two choices: the BBC could undertake the
combined operation or give SHAEF the transmitters so
that it could establish the joint program service. On the
23rd, Churchill advised Eisenhower that while the BBC
still considered the unified broadcast service impractical,

42

the Board of Governors would be reconvening to consider
it. Barker could expect an answer promptly.{23)

Churchill wasn't going to change the BBC mandate

through an act of Parliament during wartime, but he did
have leverage as Comrnander-in-Chief of the British war
effort As a result, die BBC gave in. Military experience
had won out over civilian opinion.

At the meeting that followed, Minister of information
Haley promptly denned the conditions under which the
BBC would accede to General Eisenhower's desire for a
combined radio operation- During the wartime crisis,
Eisenhower's wishes and policies would "remain para-
mount at all times as relayed through his radio liaison
officer." In the combined operation, the BBC would
provide the world news while the cost of the program
operation would be shared equally.(24)

On May 24, Haley informed General Barker that he
had appointed Maurice Gorham, a long-time BBC
executive, as Director of the new BBC sen-ice. By then,
Kirbv had become director of SHAEF Broadcasting
Services. In a note to Barker, Haley wrote that Kirbv and
Gorham "have worked together in the past and, therefore,
already know each other." Haley also pledged that since
the BBC "has undertaken this service, you may rest
assured that every effort we can put forward to ensure its
success will be made."(25)

Gorham received his assignment the day after he'd
visited Lewis. He'd heard Lewis recount his efforts to
change Barker's position. He still maintained that AFN
could better cater to the American troops.

Gorham reviewed the file of correspondence between
SHAEF and the BBC, which he'd received from Haley.
He discovered that the service was supposed to begin on
D-Day. He found his to be "a large order" because no one
knew when D-Day would take place. Gorham also found
that the BBC had requested some staff from SHAEF and
submitted a list of people, but no one had arrived.

The BBC had already given Gorham the transmitter at
Start Point, an assigned frequency and a diagram of the
area the transmitter would reach in France. The map
turned out to be a good outline of the actual D-Day
invasion area. It explained the unusual secrecy of the
whole project.(26)

Gorham started his organization with no offices, no
studios and no plans, although the BBC expeditiously
gave him facilities in their Broadcasting House on
Portland Place. Establishing the program side proved
more difficult According to the agreement, he could call
on the BBC and AFN to supply progiamming. To get
started, he called a meeting with Kirby, John Hayes,
Robert Light (also from AFN), the BBt Controller of the
General Forces Programme and Gerry VVilmot of the
Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. The group began

laying out a seventeen-hour daily broadcast schedule.(27)
Quickly, a problem developed.

INTER-ALLIED BROADCASTING:
THE ALUED EXPEDITIONARY FORCES
PROGRAMME (AEFP)

Gorham informed the Americans that the radio service
would be known as the "Allied Expeditionary Forces
Programme of the BBC." Although he explained that
BBC had stipulated that title. Colonel Kirby and other
SHAEF Officers continued to object during the planning
phase of the AEFP. When the agreement between SHAEF
and the BBC seemed to start unraveling. General Barker
met with Kirby, Haley and Gorham to resolve the
problem on May 29. According to Gorham, Haley "gave
a wonderful display of tough negotiation." The BBC
prevailed, although the phrase "of the BBC" would
become both an irritant and a source of confusion to the
American Soldiers. The only change was that the AEFP
was to begin the day after r>Day.(28)

Besides the transmitter, the BBC provided Gorham
with technical facilities and office accommodations. AFN
provided a portion of the staff and about half of the
programming. The BBC supplied 45% and the Canadian
military radio operation about 5%.

Despite the short time to prepare, the AEFP was readv
to go on the air by June 7 (the day after D-Day). The
opening announcement set forth the mission that would
guide the operation throughout its existence:

"We are initiating today a radio broadcasting service
for the members of the Allied Expeditionary Forces. We
shall call this service the AEF Program. It is to be a
service especially prepared for you and we shall try to
make it of a character suited to your needs. Its purpose is
threefold: To link you with your homes by news broad-
casts from the United Kingdom, Canada and the United
States; to give you the latest news from the war fronts and
the world events; and finally, to offer you diversion and
relation during those precious few moments of leisure
from the main job at hand. For this latter purpose, we
shall bring you the best entertainment that can be sum-
moned from our Allied nations. The BBC has given
generouslv its resources and skilled personnel. The
American Forces Network and the Canadian Broadcast-
ing Corporation are working closely with the BBC in this
project, making it a truly inter-Allied effort. As we go
forward together to victory, the AEF program will be
constantly within your reach, serving you, we hope, in a
manner worthy of your deeds."

Despite creation of the AEFP, the American AFN
retained its network in England. It continued to provide
the complete APRS package to U. S. airbases and to the
American soldiers at their staging areas. Once the

43

advance began across Europe, APN would provide
mobile radio stations to accompany U. S. troops with
entertainment, news and sports.

In the end, AFRS managed to provide service to
.American fighting men in the same way as Lewis had
tried to sell to General Barker. However, or most of the
men righting on the continent, the AEFP, with AFRS
support, became a primary source of entertainment

Even considering the complexities of international
leadership, Lewis' people remained steadfast in their
efforts to provide "a little bit of home" for the Americans.

NOTES • CHAPTER 10

( 1 ) Savage, Progress Report.

(2) Colonel Theo Arter to Commanding General,
ETOUSA, March 12, 1943.

(3) Ibid.

(4) Ibid.

(5) Interview with Uovd Sigmon on Julv 3, 1983.

(6) Ibid.

(7) Ibid.

(8) John Hayes, President, Washington Post Broadcasting,
to John Seigenthaler, Editor, The Nashville Tennessean,
November 22, 1963.

(9) Ibid.

(10) Haves to Seigenthaler, op.cit.

(11) Ibid.

(12) Ibid.

(13) Proposed Plan for Radio coverage for Fortiiconung
Military Operation, European Theatre of Operations.
May 20, 1944.

(14) Lewis, Unpublished Autobiographv.

(15) Ibid.

(16) Ibid.

(17) Star-Spangled Radio, p. 137.

(18) Ibid.

(19) Ibid.

(20) Ibid.

(21) Ibid p 139; Maurice Gorham, Sound and Fury, p 140.

(22) Star-Spangled Radio, pp 14041.

(23) Ibid, p 142.

(24) Gorham. pp 14041.

(25) Ibid pp 143-44; Star-Spangled Radio, pp 142-43.

(26) Gorham. p 144.

44

CHAPTER 1 1

ALLIED EXPEDITIONARY
FORCES BROADCASTING

The Allied Expeditionary Forces Program had access to
the best of radio entertainment from Britain, Canada and
the United States. BBC Director Maurice Gorham spent
considerable time trying to keep the right balance be-
tween the three nationalities- "There was little finesse
about these meetings of ours," he recalls, "and everybody
emerged rather battered." Ultimately, the U. S. American
Forces Network provided about fifty percent of the
programming with the other half coming from the BBC
and theCBC-(l)

Initially, AEFP had to rely on materials coming from
each of the broadcast services. Gorham wanted to carry
out General Eisenhower's goal of a unified service. So, he
"was very keen on having some joint programs where
British and American voices broadcasted together, instead
of each having a program in rum." From the beginning,
the news side of the operation did just that. As agreed
between SHAEF and the BBC, the news on the AEFP
came from BBC news facilities. Announcers from AFN,
BBC and CBC read the news from all three countries
throughout the broadcast day, alternating even* hour on
the hour from 555 AM until 11:00 PM. Announcers from
all three nations also did the informational spots.(2)

FIRST JOINT PROGRAMMING

An effort to provide more in-depth coverage of
military developments led to the first joint programming.
On July 4, AEFP celebrated the American's Independence
Day with a special two-way program. Staff members
British Lieutenant Colonel David Niven and US. Captain
Franklin Engelmann interviewed British, American and
Canadian troops at Normandy as part of a composite
program. It included a direct shortwave broadcast from
the United States. This was a one-time event, however.

On a regular basis, the most successful AEFP original
program was "Combat Diary," a daily round-up of war
news. "Combat Diary" provided first-hand accounts of
events in the local theater and the other fronts. Occasion-
ally, they'd spotlight a particular unit and its achieve-
ments since D-Day. The program ran seven-davs-a-week
from July 3, 1944, until after V-E Day (Mav 8, 1945).
Captain Jack London of AFN handled most of the
narration and Captain Royston Morley, a former BBC
producer and war correspondent, edited the program

during its entire run. A changing team of American and
Canadian uniformed radio men assisted them. Stories
were contributed by war correspondents and fighting
men from all three countries. Edited "by soldiers for
soldiers," the program had great popularity among the
troops as they moved across Europe.

"Combat Diary" also attracted the attention of other
reporters who listened to the program and began contrib-
uting to it. To Maurice Gorham, the best part of the
program was having one nationality reporting on
another - a BBC man covering Patton's Army or an
American writing on the British air war. "Combat Diary"
also brought to many of the correspondents the new
experience of having their reports heard by the men about
whom they were writing. This "particularly impressed
the American reporters, who were used to sending cables
to their home newspapers or speaking over the radio-
telephone to New York. They now found their pieces
being broadcast within a few hours to the very units
whose actions they'd described and amongst whom they
were still living."(3)

A memorandum was written on July 6, 1944, to AFN
Commander John Hayes from Major Arthur Goodfriend,
Chief of the Orientation Branch of the U. S. Command
and later Officer-in-Charge of Stars m\d Stripes. It captures
the initial impact of the AEFP operation on the troops in
the field. Goodfriend arrived in Normandy shortly after
the initial landings on the second day of a four-day storm
that was interfering with the unloading of ammunition
and supplies. Rain was coming down in sheets. The
wind was blowing at more than forty miles per hour. It
was "about as dismal a scene as I ever recall, and I've seen
such things as the Quetta earthquake in India and
Monsoons in the Indian Ocean. With all that rain coming
even-where, cooks had a hard time preparing food.
When the) f did, the water poured onto the plates, and the
enlisted men huddled around vehicles in the near
vicinity, in a vain attempt to find protection."

Other than the cook shack, Goodfriend found only one
other shelter. It was a piece of canvas protecting "some-
thing exceptionally precious, something which even
under the circumstances had to be kept dry." As the men
began to eat, the sound of music came out of the crude
shelter.

"It was strange music. It was jive - American jive! I
never did find out whose jive it was, but it was gay,
rhythmic, and in no time at all it had us feeling
I 100-percent better. The wind and the rain got all mixed
up with the music. It distorted it a little, but in the main
the reception was good. Wonder of wonders, it was
hooked to a loudspeaker that gave it the volume it needed
to compete with the noises of the beach. We could hear it
clearly where we sat. All around us we could see others

45

pricking up their ears and smiling as thev ate and listened
to the music of that radio."

"We forgot the rain. We forgot our rations. We forgot
our soaked clothes. We forgot about the destruction and
dislocation on the beach. We felt revived and confident
If Americans could listen to music in those terrible
conditions, things could not be so bad." As the program-
ming continued during the afternoon and soldiers passed
into the range of the loud-speaker, Goodfriend observed
he could see "their shoulders straighten and their faces
relax. It made the whole job easier."

In warranted exaggeration, Goodfriend wrote that this
was "the day when the Army beat both the Germans and
the elements. The radio and the cheer it brought to the
boys on the.beach played a big role in that victory." He
felt "proud when the brief announcement identified the
music as part of the American Forces Network service
over the Allied Expeditionary Forces Program."
Armed Forces Radio was achieving its purpose.

When Tom Lewis read the Goodfield report, he
forwarded it to his staff. He told them, "It expresses your
objective in more practical and more human terms than
anything I've yet read on the subject. It expresses, too, the
only promise we ever made to you at AFRS - a sense of
fulfillment for the long hours of thought and work you've
poured into this operation. "(4)

GLENN MILLER

Gorham continued to work toward his goal of using
the programs from the individual services to supplement
the jointly-produced shows. His most successful effort
was the regular broadcasts by uniformed bands from
each military service. Major Glenn Miller brought an all-
star organization from the United States, Captain Robert
Famon conducted the Canadian band and R.S.M. George
Melachrino led the British musicians. Leading entertain-
ers like Bing Crosby and Dinah Shore, appeared with the
bands in spectacular inter- Allied shows.

Glenn Miller, the most popular band leader of the day,
joined the Army shortly after Pearl Harbor and directed a
band for the U.S. Air Forces Training Command. On
arrival in England, the service officially designated his
group the American Band of the Supreme Allied Com-
mand. Even though their primary assignment was to
broadcast on AEFP, Miller's band made personal appear-
ances at benefits, hospitals and military bases. Besides the
major broadcast each Thursday night, small groups from
the fort)' member band played regularly scheduled
programs on other evenings. A twenty-piece string
sectioa for example, did a quarter-hour program called
"Strings with Wings" on Mondays and Wednesdays.

Despite the excellent reception of his music broadcasts,
Miller discussed his views with Gorham. In particular, he

cited the problems Gorham had in dealing with the
Americans during his tenure as head of AEFP. Miller
didn't know much about the organization. He'd thought
he'd be directing his own program instead of merelv
supplying a band. Gorham admits he compounded the
problem by trying to integrate Miller's programs to give
mem an inter-allied flavor. "We gave him the best
soloists Britain had, thinking that it'd appeal to everybody
to hear Vera Lynn or Anne Shelton singing with his "band
He didn't want them. He had his own formula and
found it hard to fit them in."(5)

Time helped Miller and Gorham understand each
other better. Gorham agreed with Miller's scheme of
transcribing his radio broadcasts, which he'd been doing
for his weekly shows. This gave him more time to appear
at bases throughout the British Isles. It provided backup
if lines weren't available for live broadcasts. Gorham's
influence within SHAEF helped Miller travel to Paris to
do live broadcasts from the French capital.

Eisenhower's headquarters initially turned down
Miller's request to go to Paris, citing the difficulty of
securing landlines to carry the program back to England.
When he finally got the arrangements, Gorham told
Miller, "Now, Glenn, there's only one more thing. For
heaven's sake, make sure that boat they put you on is
'seaworthy. We don't want to lose you all!"

In response, Miller told the AEFP director, "You don't
have to worry. You'U have the recordings anyway!"(6)
That quip would prove prophetic.

Miller's band flew safely to Paris where they prepared
for a live Christmas show. Miller himself hitched a ride
with an American Colonel aboard a single-engine plane.

It vanished at sea.

America was staggered by the news and the continu-
ing mystery surrounding the death of the revered
bandleader. For AEFP, it produced a crisis of another
kind. Gorham knew Miller was missing, but he couldn't
report it in Europe until SHAEF made the announcement
What about the Christmas show?

AEFP continued to use Miller's programs transcribed
with his voice until SHAEF reported the news on Christ-
mas Eve. Finally, they made the announcement. Having
secured lines from Paris, AEFP broadcast the Christmas
Program live as scheduled with Miller's deputy leading
the band. Gorham saw Miller's loss as a "tremendous
blow to the American troops. It was sad news for me too,
for after our early clashes we'd got on good terms. I
respected his workmanship and the tremendous trouble
he took to get his results."(7)

Miller wasn't the only American who had difficulty
understanding the AEFP operation. According to
Gorham, he was "never sure whether Ed Kirby quite
realized that SHAEF had abandoned their original plan

46

and that the BBC was running the program, not he and
SHAEF." Kirby was "more interested in formats than in

policy. He was only happy when he was in a studio."

Gorham considered him "more of a sponsor than a
military adviser. Like so manv sponsors he had no idea
how to judge a script He worked entirely on 'dry runs.'"
To keep Kirbv happy, Gorham obtained as many record-
ing disks as Kirby wanted, despite their shortage. "Kirby
would just disappear into the studios and cut records
happily for hours."(8}

Dealing with AFN was another matter.

In England, AFN continued to function under the
control of the American Command known as ETOUSA
(European Theatre of Operations U.S. Army). Unlike
Eisenhower and SHAEF, ETOUSA didn't want AEFP in
the first place. They believed, like AFRS' Tom Lewis, that
the American Forces Network could give American
troops whatever they needed. ETOUSA believed that the
more AEFP sounded like AFN the better. They were not
exactly fans of Gorham's operation.

Gorham recalled. "At all times 1 had to have my eyes
very wide open in dealing with AFN."(9)

Gorham had a long friendship with Johnny Hayes, the
commander of AFN. Hayes and AFN had all the AFRS
programs. While they never allocated any full-time
personnel to AEFP, Hayes' group gave Gorham all the
programming he could use and then some Gorham
found him "too business-like to be uncooperative."
Throughout their move across Europe. American troops
in the field had problems with AEFP, too. Just like AFRS'
Lewis had feared, when he argued for separate broadcast
services, the BBC control of the operation had a negative
impact on U. S. troop morale.

G.l.'S SPEAK OUT

True Boardman had been on a fact-finding mission for
the Chief of Special and information Services of the U. S.
Forces in Europe. When he returned on January 22, 1945,
he provided a detailed analysis of the effectiveness of the
AEFP. In a memorandum for General O.N. Solbert,
Boardman emphasized that he did not intend to criticize
the personnel of AEFP nor the separate broadcast ser-
vices. First, AEFP provided "radio of high standard."
Second, "the combined operation after D-Day was
essential. It placed emphasis in every possible way on the
fact that we came to the Continent as one force, one army,
with absolute singleness of purpose." In doing this, the
"combined radio service was psychologically of great
value."

However, times had changed. "That joint operation, as
now in effect, provides a program service less than
satisfactory to most American listeners. It works against,
rather than for, friendly relations with our British Allies."

Boardman related his findings from visits he'd made to
the Seventh and Third Army. He included reactions to

the .AEFP service as a whole, reactions to the AEFP news

service and reactions to reception. Overall, the average
G.I. had an unfavorable impression of AEFP. When
asked if he listened to the service, the normal reply was
"You mean that BBC deal?"

Soldiers did "not identify the present set-up as pari of a
world-wide service by the American Army, designed
especially for him as an American fighting man. Neither
does he have any feeling that the radio he hears is
what Army broadcasting is primarily intended to be - that
is, a strong and familiar 'tie with home.' He is more
inclined to think of the AEFP as 'another Limey propa-
ganda gag.' "

Part of this feeling resulted from that pesty and
constant reference to the AEFP as a service "of the BBC."
While Boardman acknowledged that the decision to
eliminate this reference from the air would help, it was by
no means the complete answer. Regardless of how the
service described itself, many potential irritants remained.
The G-I.s simply had no use for the British soccer reports,
nor the British comics whom they neither liked nor could
understand. With few exceptions, the American troops
thought British popular music was inferior to their own
name bands. Boardman concluded, "In short, he doesn't
like most British programs as well as he would American
shows."

When a soldier was able to listen to Expeditionary
Station, he had a wide range of American programming,
thanks to local option periods. However, most of the day,
AEFP provided no such option. Even with the operation
of AFN stations assigned to each of the American armies,
thousands of G.I.s stUl got most or all their radio from the
AEFP broadcasts beamed from England. Despite the
efforts of AFN to inject American programming into these
AEFP broadcasts, Boardman said that AEFP remained
"still basically British in spirit. "It reminds the G.I. listener
more of England than of home. Unlike the British soldiers
on the Continent, he has no alternative service to listen to.
[British soldiers could pick up the General Forces
Programme of the British military and the civilian BBC
shows.] So, he is inclined to resent it."

Boardman found that the "most consistent and most
violent criticism of the AEFP is on the score of news." He
outlined several problem areas; First, U.S. soldiers didn't
feel they were getting due credit from the BBC for their
part in the war. Second, as the Public Information
Officers told him, the newscasts mentioned only BBC
correspondents. Finally, the G.I.s complained, the BBC
placed undue emphasis on British unite at the expense of
American unite, and the greater proportion of the news
was British rather than American.

17

Although the agreement which set up AEFP called for
a fifty-fifty news coverage, the troops pointed out that this
wasn't fair either. After all, the United States had more
troops in Europe than the British. When newscasts
mentioned bom British and American forces, the British
forces were almost always mentioned first. The soldiers
with whom Boardman talked, also told of a recent
instance where the BBC gave the top news spot to British
developments in Greece. That was dumb, Certainly,
more important things were going on in other areas. The
Battle of the Bulge for one!

Compounding the troops' criticisms was a general
dissatisfaction with AEFP's technical side. The signal
coming from England often wasn't strong enough for a
satisfactory relay over local stations. The Seventh Army
troops also complained that their own station had its
production operations replaced by the AEFP feed. Letters
from the soldiers were unanimous in their preference for
the ail-American local format in opposition to the relay-
type programming.

It was true that Boardman had gathered these soldiers'
opinions informally and without scientific research
techniques. Yet, he still felt safe in concluding that any
more-extensive survey would produce the same results.
In any case, in matching the programming effort of the
AEFP with the fundamental principles on which APRS
was based, Boardman believed that AEFP just didn't
fulfill the mission.

"The news is not consistently American in content nor
manner of presentation." he said. "The program schedule
is unfamiliar in many respects and use of the medium for
orientation and troop information is restricted on the
grounds that American orientation material should not be
disseminated to British troops."

So, Boardman's recommendation was simple. "Dis-
continue the AEFP. Extend to the Continent the Ameri-
can Forces Network, as now operated in the United
Kingdom. A complete all-British broadcast service to
British troops is now available in the General Forces
Program of the BBC No similar all-American program is
available to the American troops." The two parallel
services should provide their own army its respective
radio programming. Such a plan could also provide
alternative choices to their own programming if they so
wished. Freedom to choose was the key element

"The undesirable psychological factor in forcing a man
to listen to a type of show he doesn't like would be
eliminated." f\us, an all-American operation would
fulfill the AFRS mission of providing information and
orientation materials to American troops on a network
basis. Of course, it w*ould also add to the dout of Lewis'
and Boardman's organization and it'd redirect broadcast-
ing efforts back to Lewis' original objectives.

Boardman acknowledged the "many complexities
involved" in his recommendation. General Eisenhower
himself, as Supreme Commander, would have to approve
or disapprove his proposal based on his conclusion that
"the original mission of the AEFP is now accomplished.

"For the reasons here indicated, further continuance of
the joint service is undesirable. It actually mitigates
against the very objectives which inspired its establish-
ment. It engenders Anti-British feelings on the part of
American soldiers, and deprives those same soldiers of
radio as they prefer to hear it"(10)

THE AEFP LEGACY

Despite Boardman's recommendations to Solbert, and
similar ones to Hayes and AFN the next day, AEFP had
not done all that badly. The service had provided news
and entertainment to several million soldiers. It contrib-
uted to the good morale of the troops during the most
difficult periods following initial landings or the occa-
sional military setbacks. Perhaps more important during
times when a lull took place in the fighting, radio was
there. Its music, drama and comedy helped the men relax
with at least a brief respite from the serious business at
hand.

Gorham was "accused of something by somebody at
least once a week throughout the lifetime of the AEFP."

One of the easiest criticisms to explain, if hardest to do
anything about, was "Radio Amheim" The Germans
would pick up AEFP broadcasts and relay them back to
the Allied troops exactly like the mobile stations were
doing. The only difference was that the Germans would
slip in bits of propaganda. Aided by AEFP's "precise
timings,'' the German station "did it very cleverly indeed.
'Radio Amheim's' news was often mistaken for ours!"
When someone would call up asking why AEFP was
saying that Montgomery was a better General than
Bradley or Patron, Gorham would have to explain mat
Amheim had "done it again!"

Despite such problems, Gorham states, "it was a job
worth doing all the same. We all thought it the best
entertainment program ever put on the air. Of course it
ought to have been, with all the material from three
countries that it had to draw upon. It did seem to be a
godsend to the troops."

The evidence came, just as it did for the AFRS opera-
tions, from the soldiers themselves. From all over the
world, first-hand testimonies poured in from the front
and from troops when they returned home. Gorham
found it surprising how many men "appreciated the idea
behind the service and thought better of their allies
because of it, thus justifying SHAEF's original idea. We
knew that a mention of a unit in our 'Combat Diarv' had
an amazing effect in raising the unit's morale."

Thus, despite Lewis' concern about the British control
of AEFP, the service did accomplish General

Eisenhower's aim.

NOTES -CHAPTER 11

(l)Gorham,pp 14649.
f2> Ibid.

(3>Gorham,pp 147647.

(4) Major Arthur Goodfriend to John Hayes, July 6, 1944;
Lieutenant Colonel Tom Lewis to All Personnel of the

AFRS, Military and Chilian, July 20, 1944.

(5) Gorham, p 152.

(6) Ibid., pp 151-51

(7) Ibid., P 152.

(8) Ibid., p 147.

(9) Ibid.

(10) Lieutenant Colonel True Boardman to Brigadier
General O.N. Solbert, January 22, 1945.

19

CHAPTER 12

THE AMERICAN FORCES
NETWORK OVERSEAS

While AEFP broadcast to the Allied troops advancing
across Europe, the American Forces Network continued
to provide American Forces in the British Isles with full
radio service. Johnny Hayes was now a major. To
operate the network, he scoured American encampments
throughout Great Britain to find engineers, newsmen and
announcers who'd worked in commercial radio before
entering the military. Volunteers, especially from combat
units, were easy to find.

AFN PROG RAM MING

The AFRTS package from Los Angeles gave the
network a solid base of programming. However, from
the start, Hayes felt it was important to fill out his broad-
cast schedule with locally -prepared news and special
events programs.

To attain this goal, Hayes "borrowed" G.K. Hodenfield
from Stars and Stripes to serve as AFN's first Director of
News and Special Events, Hodenfield's staff included
Ford Kennedy, Mart)' 5mith, Johnny Vrotsos and later
Russ Jones and Bob Light

The British Ministn* of Information was more securitv-
conscious than the .Americans. They were also more used
to strict censorship of news. So, they kept two men on
duty in the AFN studios just to monitor the live broad-
casts. According to Hodenfield, there was little reason for
the effort "since virtually all our news had already been
censored before we got it." In any case, for the first six
months, the news staff did little more than rewrite this
carefully edited material and prepare some "March of
Times" style radio documentaries.

In January, 1945, AFN moved its microphones "on
location." Hodenfield and announcer Keith Jamieson
took a wire recorder to a Roval Canadian Air Force Base
north of London. There they would interview members
of bomber crews about to take part in a massive 2,000-
plane nighttime air strike against Berlin. Leaving
Jamieson on the ground, Hodenfield boarded one of the
Lancasters and accompanied the mission sitting next to
the bombardier. As the armada reached Berlin, it encoun-
tered heavy flak. The bomber in front of his plane
received a direct hit and exploded. Hodenfield later
recalled, "To say I was scared is an understatement. 1 was
absolutely petrified! I couldn't even speak. The anti-

aircraft fire was fierce. I didn't see how we could make
iti"(l)

Despite heavy losses on the raid, Hodenfield's plane
returned to base. He then joined Jamieson to interview
some of the fliers, pieced together the recordings and
broadcast the completed program the next day on AFN.
The Canadian military broadcast service also carried the
show. It was the first AFN special events remote and set
the pattern for thousands of other broadcasts that the
Network would do over the years.

The staff didn't always have to go on location to bring
the war to AFN listeners. When Germany launched its
last-ditch rocket attacks on London in June, 1944, the halls
would shake and lights would sway from the near misses
of the V-l buzz bombs and later the V-2 ballistic missiles.
Somehow, the announcers and engineers gradually grew
accustomed to it and went about their jobs. One day,
Major Bob Light and Captain Jack London, the Network's
Executive and Operations Officers respectively, climbed
to the roof of 80 Portland Place. They took recording
equipment to capture the sounds of the attack. When
they heard a particularly loud buzz bomb chugging along
in their direction, the men switched on their recorder and
listened, as all Londoners had learned to do, for the cut-
off of the rocket motor, which meant that the missile had
begun its downward plummet. In this instance, the
motor cut off a few seconds after passing Portland Place.
The recording, which AFN then broadcast, picked up on
the rocket's sound, the silence following engine cut off,
and the explosion that rocked the area.(2) Great report-
ing!

By D-Day, the Network had expanded to include more
than sixty 50-watt transmitters, all connected by landline
to the studios at 80 Portland Place, next door to the BBC
headquarters. Included among the AFN outlets were six
transmitters in Northern Ireland fed bv cables across the
Irish Sea. Again, because of BBC restrictions, AFN
couldn't broadcast over the air in the London area. So,
AFN sent its programming over landlines into the dry's
American military facilities. Despite the BBC restrictions
on transmitter power and locations, the Network thrived.
By the end of its first year of operations, an estimated five
million Britons listened to AFN with regularity.^)

AFN's popularity and recruitment of its staff within
the European theater helped to create a feeling of virtual
autonomy from AFRS. Ben Hoberman had begun as a
disk jockey in AFN headquarters. He recalls that "we
were very proud of what we were doing in Europe, and
most of it we were doing by ourselves."(4)

According to Bob Light, during the time he was in
London, AFRS requested that AFN identify itself as being
part of AFRS rather calling itself the American Forces
Network. When AFN refused, the War Department

50

dispatched a representative who negotiated a compro-
mise that mandated that every* other station break would

include 'This is the American Forces Network of the

Armed Forces Radio Service." Light notes that while "we
gave them that concession, we printed all our programs
in the Stars and Stripes saving AFN." During his inspec-
tion trip in earlv 1945, True Boardman found the AFN in
London "really didn't like the idea of having to be
considered part of Armed Forces Radio Senice."(5)

Tensions remained between AFN and the AEFP. AFN
never attached any of its staff to the joint operation on a
full-time basis as the BBC had expected. As part of the
negotiations to set up AEFP, AFN had agreed to establish
no new stations in the British Isles after June 6. On D-
Dav, however, AFN took the first step in expanding its
scope of operations when it inaugurated a seven-hour all-
American weekly service, which it short-waved to the
China /Burma /India theater. Then in October, disregard-
ing Eisenhower's goals of a single radio voice with which
he could reach all his troops simultaneously, AFN Chief
Haves began to establish stations in France under his
control. X.O. Bob Light went from London to Paris to put
an AFN station on the air.(6)

AFN IN FRANCE

Broadcasting in Paris began on October 1 3th with a 50-
watt transmitter. The studios were in cramped quarters in
the Shell Building just off the Champs Elysees. As Light
recalls, although the station was "right in the middle of
Paris, if we could be heard three blocks in all directions,
we were luck)-." After a couple of weeks, he obtained a
fifteen-kilowatt transmitter from the French and then
moved the station to 19 Avenue Dienna, which had a
better equipped studio. That studio also became the
center of operations for AFN in France, connected to the
other fixed stations by landline and short-wave. How-
ever, V-E Day, the main AFN headquarters and news
operation remained in London.(7)

As with all AFN stations that went on the air in
permanent facilities, the AFRS package served as the basic
programming for the Paris operation. To fill out the
eighteen-hour broadcast day, the station had its own disc
jockeys playing records. This included Specialist Fifth
Class Grady Edney, a broadcaster from Boston, who
originated the popular "Sigh by Night," a late night
poetry and music show. The station also did live broad-
casts with Sergeant Johnny Desmond and the Glenn
Miller ensemble "Strings with Wings" from the Red Cross
Club. They provided local sports coverage and news of
the military advance.

The quality of the AFRS package and the locally-
produced shows created a large "shadow audience" of
local residents. When AFN-Paris closed down in June,

1946, following the departure of most American troops,
French civilians asked the American ambassador to allow
the station to continue. For diplomatic reasons, the Army
and the State Department put AFN back on the air, with*
programs brought to Paris by landlines from the new
AFN headquarters in Frankfurt. This operation contin-
ued until the end of '47 when AFN* permanently closed
the station.(8}

Once the Paris station was operating, Light went into
the field. There, he would arrange for mobile stations to
accompany the four United States Armies as they ad-
vanced across France into Germany. Light had as his
model the "station on wheels" that was accompanying
the Fifth .Army through Italy. The first Allied transmitter
on the continent began operations in Naples on October
25, 1943, with the announcement: "This is the American
Expeditionary Station - in the field with the Fifth Army."

AFN MARCHES ACROSS EUROPE

Initially, the station stayed in Naples. There it gained
popularity with the soldiers fighting their wav north from
the city, with sailors aboard ships in the harbor, and with
the Italian population itself. After the fighting had moved
north and out of range of the broadcasts, the staff received
a letter from a soldier along the Volturno River.

"Are you guys still broadcasting?" it asked. "We
haven't heard from you in weeks. We thought you were
supposed to be in the field. "(9)

With that input, the station became truly mobile. The
staff obtained two trucks and had special bodies built on
them. It obtained two ninety-foot poles from the Signal
Corps and headed into the field joining the Fifth Army on
February 15, 1945. The new mobile station proudly
displayed its jaunty crest consisting of a microphone on
wheels, on the side of the van By April 30, 1944, the
station was at Mondrago, located on a small cape jutting
into the Mediterranean between Naples and Anzio.
Twenty-four hours later they were in direct competition
with Axis Sally with a daily 16-hour schedule broadcast-
ing primarily AFRS material, recorded songs and live
shows.(lO) '

The only time the station stopped its daily schedule
was when it moved to new positions. In July, 1944,
Lieutenant Verne Carstensen, the stations' Commander,
wrote to AFRS in Los Angeles with the news that the
mobile transmitter had travelled five hundred miles since
leaving Naples. The fi r st time the staff had used build-
ings for quarters was when it reached Rome. Less than a
week after the capture of the city, broadcasting began.

From his experiences running the station on wheels,
Carstensen published a guide to operation practices on
April 1, 1945. He emphasized the dominant position of
the Field Commander over the functions of an AFRS

51

station. "The station will cooperate fully in earning out
the desires of the Commanding General Fifth Army, on
matters of administration, programming and hours of
operation," he said.(ll)

Carstensen provided a list of objectives that he consid-
ered essential for the successful operation of a mobile
facility: "The staff should always try to make the listener,
regardless of his surroundings, imagine that he is listen-
ing to the radio back home. The station should broadcast
to the primary listener, the soldier in the field. The
soldiers should be kept informed with dependable news,
and other nonclassified information of the Armed
Services, at home and in the world as a whole. The
station should orient and educate the soldier by present-
ing information in a pleasant form. It should give the
soldier a better understanding of the war - its causes,
reasons for fighting it, results, leaders, and those fighting
with and against him. It should work toward building
and maintaining morale. Finally, the station should give
the soldier a voice. He should be encouraged to display
this talent and to offer suggestions. "(12)

To provide similar service to the troops fighting across
France, Light located 1 ,000- watt mobile transmitters with
the First, Seventh, and Ninth armies by the end of October
1944. Only Patton refused to allow a mobile station to
accompany his Third Army across France. At first, the
mobile transmitters served "primarily as relay stations for
the program schedule of the AEFP." The station was
afforded a very limited amount of 'local option' time —
just two-and-one-half hours per day — during which it
could originate its own programs.(13)

Given the limited space in the stations on wheels, the
staffs couldn't earn- complete AFRS packages. Most of
their programming would have to come from AEFP
material. As the mobile stations followed the troops,
AFN set up fixed stations to serve the rear encampments
and headquarters areas. Locales included Cannes, Nice,
Marseilles, Dijon, LeHavTe and Biarritz - not at all bad
places from which to fight a war. Once in place, the
stations joined the AFRS mailing list and began receiving
the weekly shipments of transcriptions from Los Angeles.

Meanwhile, the stations on wheels continued to follow
the troops as they moved into Germany. On a regular
basis, they supplied the soldiers with music and news -
sometimes right as it was happening.

AFN'S FIRST WARTIME
CASUALTY

Such closeness to the fighting was not without its risks.
The war found the stations occasionally subjected to
bombings and shellings. Sergeant Jim McNally became
AFN's first casualty when he was killed in a strafing
attack on the Seventh Army's mobile station. Shortly

afterwards, Sergeant Pete Parrish, an AFN news corre-
spondent, was killed while accompanying an airborne
i unit in France.

Bringing stations close to the action provided the AFN"
audience with a sense of immediacy to events and a
morale boost in knowing that success was at hand. In one
instance. Lieutenant General William Hodge stopped by
the First Army's 500-watt transmitter and asked, "May I
speak over this some time?" He got his chance that night
when he returned to announce over the air that Cologne
had fallen to the American advance.(14)

WAR'S END

Ironically, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, the man
who wanted a radio operation to communicate to his
men, never got to inform them of the most important
news of all - victory.

In late April, the war was about to end. Bob Light
called Navy Captain Ham- Butcher, General
Eisenhower's chief aide, and asked that the General
provide a statement that AFN could broadcast on V-E
Day. About May 1, light received a transcription, which
he described as "awful." It was Eisenhower. He was
saying Thank you' to the workers of Britain for the
wonderful job the)' did in keeping the factories going —
regardless of the bombs and the whole damn thing."(15)

Light immediately called Butcher back and asked
, "where was a message to the American soldier, for whom
the broadcast was intended?"

Butcher responded that Eisenhower didn't have rime
to provide anything else. Light replied that he'd not play
the recording. Butcher asserted that AFN had better.

Light called Kay Sommerville, Eisenhower's driver
I who was Very close to the General. She was "very
sv-mpathetic, very sweet, very nice, but couldn't do a
damn thing for me."

Thus, when victory was won, AFN didn't carry a word
from the Supreme Commander because Light "would not
play a 'thank you to the workers of Britain' to our Ameri-
can troops. That'd have been the worst thing in the
world. It would have been terrible."(16)

AFN ESTABLISHES HEADQUARTERS
IN GERMANY

With the fighting ended, AFN established permanent
facilities in Germany. From Paris, Light flew to Frankfurt
with Ben Hoberman, now a lieutenant working in the
Paris station, and with a civilian engineer. The men then
drove to Munich and began looking for a trartsmitter and
studios. Light obtained the use of two 100-kilowatt
transmitters from the Psychological Warfare Section of the
Seventh Army, one in Munich and the other in Stuttgart
that the Germans had used to jam allied broadcasts

52

during the war. To house the studios, Light requisitioned
the mansion of the famed German artist Kaulbach. It'd
also been the location where the Nazi Part)- was born and,
during the war, it'd served as the headquarters of the
Nazi Gauleiter.(l7) With the first station on the air in
Munich, Light gave General Patton the station he'd earlier
refused to accept. He'd soon wish he hadn't

To meet a June 10th on-air deadline, light turned to
the Seventh Army and borrowed their mobile station,
promising to call 'the station "AFN, Seventh Army,
Munich." When he obtained the temporary facilities,
Light decided he'd put the station on the air on the
designated date, even though he himself had never
appeared on the air. At 5:55 AM on the 10th, Light
announced: "This is Major Robert Light, signing AFN,
Seventh Army, Munich, on the air for the first time."
Completing the introduction, Light turned the station
over to the staff and went back to bed.(l8)

Unfortunately, in the rush to get the station read)' the
previous day, light hadn't paid attention to the rumble of
tanks moving into the city! Consequently, he'd not
known that the Seventh Army had turned Munich over to
Patton's Third Army that had arrived from Bad Tolz. As
Light was preparing for his "debut" as an announcer the
morning of the 10th, Patton had awakened and turned up
the volume on his radio searching for a station. Finding
only the hiss of a wanning transmitter, the general began
to shave.

When Light's voice boomed out over the radio, Patton
reportedly lost control of his straight-edge razor causing
him to cut his neck. To make matters worse, Light had
credited the wrong Army for being in Munich! With
blood streaming from the wound, Patton ordered his aide
to find that announcer and court-martial the "son of a b-
tch" who'd mtsidentified his Army. At 8:00 AM, Light
found himself awakened by MP's with orders to arrest
him. Only with the aid of a sympathetic police officer,
did Light manage to slip out of Munich that night and
returned to Paris. He never heard anything more about
the incident.(19) On-air fame has its privileges!

AFN-Munich soon moved into its new headquarters at
15 Kolbati Strasse where it remained until February 1992
when it was closed; 47 years of broadcasting in one
location! AFN-Stuttgart followed Munich on the air a few
weeks later, also with 100,000 watts of power and using
the same frequency. In sync, the two stations were able to
blanket Western Europe and on occasion even reach the
Southeastern United States with AFN programming.
AFN-Frankfurt began broadcasting on July 15, 1945, in a
requisitioned house on Kaiser Sigmund Strasse, with
walls the staff lined with blue-grey Wehrmacht uniform
cloth for sound-proofing purposes. In August, AFN put
stations on the air in Bremen and Berlin.

AEFP CLOSES SHOP

On July 28, AEFP ended operations. Shortly after-
wards, General Eisenhower announced the move of

SHAEF headquarters from London to Frankfurt. In order
to locate where the troops and the Supreme Commander
i were, AFN Chief Johnny Hayes, by now a Lieutenant
Colonel, dispatched Lieutenant Jim Lewis to Frankfurt to
look for a building large enough to house the Network's
headquarters. When he arrived, Lewis found the Frank-
furt station in new facilities on the U5. Military Com-
pound. The studios were not only too crowded but too
close to the military command to suit the non-military
radio types who'd be running the operation.

His continued search brought Lewis to Hoeschst, a
small, quiet village on the banks of the Main River, a few
miles downstream from Frankfurt- There, he found the
Hoeschst Castle dorrunanhg the skyline as it had since the
mid-14th century. Built, and rebuiit, the Castle's most
famous guest had been Napoleon, who stopped there
during his retreat from Russia in 1812. After many
changes of ownership, Count von Bruening had acquired
the Castle in 1908. His descendants were not at all happy
about losing their home. They were still living there
when Lewis requisitioned it for AFN.

The AFN staff began remodeling the Castle. The
tower, the oldest part of the structure, became billets for
the unmarried staff. A tradition developed that the
newest man at the station berthed in the tiny room at the
top of the tower, four stories straight up! The renaissance
addition became the offices and studios. By August 15,
the new facilities were ready and without interrupting
'. programming, operations transferred from downtown
Frankfurt to Hoechst

With the American military operations now centered
on Germany, AFN London signed off the air for the last
time on December 31, 1945.

But, there were more chapters still to be written in the
genesis of Armed Forces Radio.

NOTES - CHAPTER 12

(1) Unpublished AFN history, n.d.

(2) Ibid.

(3) Ibid,; Interview with Robert Light, September 28, 19S2.

(4) Interview with Ben Hoberman, April 7, 1983.

(5) Ibid.; Boardman interview, June 12, 1972, in Larry
Dean Miller, "An historical profile the American Forces
Radio and Television Service" unpublished Masters
Thesis, Iowa State University, 1974.

(6) Light interview.

(7) Ibid.

53

(8) "Newsweek," May 13, 1946.

(9) "The Army Weekly," n.d, late 1944.

(10) Ibid-
jll) Cited in Lieutenant Colonel Russell Fudge, "Vie

Armed Forces Radio Service," Unpublished Masters
Thesis, University of Missouri, 1949.

(12) Ibid.

(13) Light interview; True Boardman to John Hayes,

"Recomnmidations on Operations of Expeditiomry
Stations on the Continent" Januarv 23, 1945.

I (14)"Bi//fwrf ( "May5,1945.

I (15) Light interview.

(16) Ibid.

(17) Light interview.

(18) Ibid.

(19) Ibid.

54

AFRS BECOMES THE
INDUSTRY STANDARD

Even with the makeshift nature of their headquarters,
first on the Fox lot and then on Santa Monica Boulevard,
Armed Forces Radio operated much like any of the
commercial radio networks. Differences did exist, but
most favored APRS.

They undoubtedly had a higher quality staff of writers,
producers, directors and entertainers than any network
on the private side. As the war progressed. Tom Lewis
transferred to his command virtually anyone from the
radio field who found himself in the service. AFRS
assembled an all-star staff that no network could have
afforded - and not without the threat of combat duty.

Through the Hollywood Victor)' Committee, the staff
could request any performer they needed to fill a slot on
any program they produced. Transcribing the shows and
then editing them down to the right time, enabled the
technical staff to produce programs complete and error-
free. In Hollywood, that surely wasn't the norm.

Perhaps the most obvious difference was that AFRS
didn't concern itself with profit and loss. The shows it
produced filled its audience needs and interests, but they
weren't necessarily dependent on popularity in the way
commercial radio broadcasts were. The staff had more
freedom to be creative.

Lewis did have to secure money to run his operation,
but he did so from the government itself, not from
advertisers. In the early days, he had problems obtaining
money and men from the War Department. He was
building a new organization from scratch and the officers
with whom he was dealing didn't share his appreciation
for the value of radio.

Needing funds to get his organization going, Lewis
sent Al 5calpone to Washington. Scalpone was originally
from Young and Rubicam in New York and was one of
the first people to accept an invitation to join the AFRS
staff. He'd not yet received his promised commission and
Lewis thought mat if he went to the Pentagon as a
civilian, he wouldn't have to worry about rank. Before
answering Lewis' call to come to Los Angeles, Scalpone
had served as a consultant to the Joint Army and Navy
Welfare Committee - the organization Osbom had headed
before accepting his instant generalship and assignment.
Scalpone knew who to approach once he arrived in
Washington.

He prepared a typical advertising presentation, which
included a request for twice the men and money needed.

The Colonel who controlled the funds raised the question
mat Lewis and his staff would face on all his trips to
Washington. He asked whether Scalpone knew there was
a war going on and told him that the last place he was
going to allot money was for a radio operation that he
thought was a rather childish thing.

Scalpone lied, telling the Colonel that he was a consult-
ant to the Secretary of War, and that he might just go on
down the hall to talk with Srimson. Reacting to the bluff,
the Colonel suggested that Scalpone "not be so hast)'."
He agreed to give AFRS half the monev it was requesting
- exactly the amount of money Scalpone had in mind.
Never mess with a pro.

Scalpone accomplished another feat on his trip East.
Stopping in New York, he went to several of the compa-
nies who sponsored radio shows and secured programs
for AFRS use. When he returned to Los Angeles, Lewis
decided that he might be more valueable as a civilian
because of the freedom he'd have in dealing with the
military. (1)

The military had little understanding of what produc-
tion of radio shows required. Bob Lee later noted,
"Somehow, the military didn't realize that what we had
to do was create these programs." Radio needed such
creation. While stations had begun to spring up sponta-
neously, none had enough programs to sustain their
operation for any length of time.(2)

The stations that began to appear were "far more than
accidents/' said Lewis. "The men needed them. They
were answering their own need in the field. That helped
me more than anything in talking to Congressional
Budget Committees. 1 realized that almost every Con-
gressman and Senator had someone in the Army, some
son or daughter. At least he had constituents who were
in the military." As a result, Lewis would carefully
describe to budget hearings how the men in the field
answered their own needs. "They built stations built out
of bailing wire and chewing gum," he'd say, in greatly
dramatizing the budget requirements. (3) It always
worked.

Yet, according to Lee, Lewis was "in a very hot spot
between the chaos of creativitv that takes place in the
building of programs, and the rigid climate of the mili-
tary." Most of the Army leadership thought of winning
the war only in terms of battles. They had a difficult time
appreciating the value of radio. Lewis coped with this
conflict "very uncomfortably." In going to Washington,
he had to plead his case on the intangible grounds that
radio w*ould boost the morale of the troops.

Lewis had "to ask people to do things they didn't want
to do, or didn't think they wanted to do, or didn't think

55

• they had to do." In Washington, the people he dealt with
seemed to think in terms of troops. As long as Lewis had
the manpower, APRS needed nothing else. At the very
least, Lewis needed complete cooperation from the War
Production Board to obtain the vinylite for the transcrip-
tions.

Lewis, the leader, considered himself a representative
of the men in his command and worked to free them "to
do their creative work."

The purpose of this effort was to bring service to the
civilians in uniform. Lewis noted, "unlike our allies or
our enemies, the people we were semiring could now or
would one day take part in electing their own Com-
mander-in-Chief. The accent was on the welfare of the
enlisted men, always."(4)

To exist, Lewis had to leam his way around Washing-
ton quickly. He had to be able to pinpoint the people
who could help him- This included Governor McNutt,
who was head of the War Manpower Commission. He
also had to meet with congressional budget committees.
Despite his work in advertising, Lewis found that it was
difficult for him because he'd not been in such high
echelons of government before. Once he learned his way
around, the AFRS Chief found he could handle the
government bureaucracy and obtain the funding and
manpower he needed,

PUTTING WASHINGTON'S FUNDS
TO WORK

AFRS provided programming for more and more
stations around the world. By May, 1944, AFRS was
producing 106 shows totalling forty-two hours of broad-
casting weekly. Sixty of the programs came from com-
mercial radio, taken off the air and decommerdalized.

The AFRS Program section functioned first under the
direction of Major Mann Holiner, formerly the radio
director on the West Coast for Benton & Bowles ad
agency. Another ad agency exec followed him. Austin
Peterson, who had worked with Lewis at Young &
Rubicam, created the balance of the programs. In peace-
time, an ad agency might be content to turn out one or
two half-hour programs a week, but AFRS maintained its
extraordinary schedule of producing manv programs
week in and week out

"Mail Call/' AFRS's first original program, went on the
air in August, 1942. "Command Performance," however,
became the keystone of AFRS prograrnming after Lewis
took over its production from the War Department's
Bureau of Public Relations in December, 1942. AFRS
created these and the other shows from scratch. They
conceived, wrote, produced and recorded them just like
any commercial radio show. The difference, of course,
was that AFRS didn't have to pay for the writers, produc-

56

ers or directors who were in the Service. More important,
the>" didn't pay for any of the talent

According to the May 16, 1944, issue of Daily Variety, i:
would've cost close to 510,000,000 a year for commercial
radio to have put the same entertainers on the air. For
example, on the Christmas, 1943, 90-minute "Command
Performance" special, the list of stars included: Bob Hope,
Fred Allen, Jack Benny, Nelson Eddy, Jimmy Durante,
Dinah Shore, Ginny Simms, Frances Langford, Kay Kyse ■
and his band and Spike Jones and the City Slickers. In
addition. Major Meredith Wilson conducted the AFRS
orchestra, composed of leading musicians whom Wilson
had brought together for all the live programs.

A more typical, half-hour "Command Performance"
offered Hope, Judy Garland, Lana Turner, Durante and
Betty Hutton. Although some stars like Bob HoperBing
Crosby, Jimmy Durante, Dinah Shore and Jack Benny
seemed to appear on one or another of the AFRS shows at
least once a week, the Program Section took care to avoid
imposing on the Hollywood stars too often. Three
leading talent agents, now in uniform, Lester Linsk,
George Rosenberg and Barron Polin, had the task of
making the necessary arrangements. According to
Sylvester "Pat" Weaver, who later became president of
NBC and who arrived at AFRS in 1944, these men "were
the nerve center of getting the people, depending on what
the idea for the show was."(5)

The former agents served as liaison between AFRS and
the Hollywood Victor)- Committee, which acted as the
clearing house to provide stars for all wartime activities.
Typically, one of the AFRS writers would come up with ;
skit that called for the performance of a couple of enter-
tainers. He'd ask the talent procurement unit to request
the stars from the Victor}- Committee. If the stars were
available, the skit would be fitted into the show on which,
the writer was working. On the da}' of the program's
transcription, all the entertainers would show up at the
studio, rehearse and then record the show before a live
audience.

Given the quality and availability of the talent and the
skills of the writers, producers and technical people, the
original programs which AFRS produced more than
matched the level of creativity and appeal found in
commercial radio during the war. Weaver as President o :
NBC considered this period "the zenith of radio" because
of the way radio declined once television arrived after tht
war. The AFRS programs may well stand as the highest
expression of American radio.(6)

Weaver replaced Bob Welsh as producer of "Com-
mand Performance" in early 1945. He observed, "we did
'Command Performance' radio shows that were better
than any other radio shows, anywhere, no matter how
popular." The program built its reputation on its weekly

half-hour variety format that presented leading entertain-
ers and artists whom the troops in the field had requested.

A writer would build an individual show around an idea

and the one or two entertainers he chose to feature. When
the staff knew that an East Coast celebrity, such as Fred
Allen who lived in New York, was coming to Los Ange-
les, they'd make an effort to create a show around the

star.(7)

One typical show had its origins in an appearance of
Frank Sinatra in one of his many "Command Perfor-
mance" scheduled broadcasts. According to Weaver, the
writers began to develop ideas around the highly publi-
cized "feud" between Sinatra and Bing Crosby. Like
other public relations gimmicks, the press had created the
impression that Sinatra and Crosby didn't like each other.
Sinatra, the newcomer, was going after the audience of
the old, established crooner. To foster this image on the
air, Sinatra would make old-man jokes about Crosby who
in rum would make "skinny-wTnd-w'ill-blow-rum-away"
jokes about the reed-thin younger singer.

For this particular program, the staff brought in
Crosby's four young boys to serve as Sinatra's foil. As
Weaver recalls, the singer asked the boys what their
father was doing. They said he was out in the garden
planting. Sinatra asked what he was planting. The
answer was the same as last year, "Your phonograph
records!" Describing the response. Weaver said, "Now,
when an eight-vear-old boy savs that, you know, the
whole place just absolutely collapsed! "(8)

"THE GREATEST RADIO SHOW
IN HISTORY"

While such programs remained the traditional fare, the
"Command Performance" specials required considerable
planning and preparation. They stand out as radio's
finest hour. AFRS produced the 1944 Christmas broad-
cast in mid-October. Bob Hope acted as master of
ceremonies for the two-hour program. The roster of stars
included Judy Garland, Dorothy Lamour, Danny Kaye,
Spencer Tracy, Frances Langford, Dinah Shore, Jack
Benny, Ginny Simms, Fred Allen and Jimmy Durante.
Besides the AFRS orchestra, which Meredith Wilson
conducted, the program also featured the bands of Spike
Jones, Xavier Cugat and Kay Kyser. Secretary of War
Stimson, Secretary of the Navy Forrestal and'Chief of Staff
Marshall provided brief "Seasons Greetings" messages.
Bob Welch produced and directed the package and
distributed it for broadcast on more than 440 outlets.
Radio Daily estimated that if commercial radio had
produced the program, the talent alone would have cost
more than 5150,000.(9)

The Los Angles Daily News called the program "the
greatest radio show in history." At the rime, it was. In

terms of sheer number of stars, no program might ever
have matched it

AFRS did manage to top it on February 15, 1945, when
it created the famous "Dick Tracy Wedding SpeciaL"
Weaver modestly considers it "one of the greatest shows
ever done in radio." As with most "Command Perfor-
mance" programs, the Dick Tracy Show began with
requests from soldiers in the field asking AFRS to transfer
Dick Tracy from the comic strip to the airwaves. The
program evolved into a two-part special featuring Bing
Crosby as "Dick Tracy," Bob Hope as "Flat Top," Frank
Sinatra as "Shaky," Dinah Shore as 'Tess Trueheart,"
Frank Morgan as "Vitamin Flintheart," Judy Garland as
"Snowflake," Jimmy Durante as "The Mole," the Andrew
Sisters as "the Somers Sisters," and Jem* Colonnas as the
Chief of Police. What a cast!

Bob Welch produced and helped script the show with
several of the AFRS staff writers. Word of the show
produced a run on the box office at the KNX studios
which had transcribed it Since most tickets went to men
and women in uniform, few people outside the military
had the opportunity to see and hear the program. The
special was never broadcast in the United States. It would
have cost at least S50.000 in 1945 dollars for the talent
alone, if a commercial network had tried to produce it.
The show managed to do what Tracy's creator, Chester
Gould, didn't do for another four years in his comic strip.
His detective hero married his long-time girlfriend after a
wedding day interrupted by a bank robbery, a kidnaping
and a holdup which killed thirteen people — very typical
of the comic strip. Thank goodness they didn't write the
hone\moon!

The Christmas Specials, the Dick Tracy Wedding
"Command Performance," and the V-E and V-J Day
Specials enhanced the AFRS reputation while thev
entertained the troops.

GJ. JILL

The regularly scheduled programs, both original and
decommerrialized programming, remained at the heart of
the broadcast operation. "Command Performance,"
"Mail Call," "Jubilee" and the other programs satisfied a
wide variety of tastes. However, it was a quarter-hour
daily show, "AEF Jukebox" that had perhaps the largest
impact on the soldiers' morale. Strictly speaking, the
program operated as a music request show playing the
popular records of the day. The disc jockey made the
difference.

Martha Wilkerson, known to the soldiers as "Gl Jill,"
combined music with conversation in a way that re-
minded the troops of their girls back home. Jill was,
herself, a young mother with a G I. husband.

If the letters to Jill provide any indication, the simple

5/

format worked. One Sergeant wrote from the Pacific
Theater: "Your cheerful voice does wonders to our
morale- Tokyo Rose is also on the air. It's as if two
women of enemy countries were battling for men's
minds. I'm glad you're winning, Jill." Because her show
played at different times of the day, Jill signed off: 'Till
next jive-time, this is your GX gal Jill saying good morn-
ing to some of you - good afternoon to some more of you -
and to the rest you. ..good night" in a wistful tone. In rum,
one G.I. wrote: "I'm one of the fellows to whom you say
'good night.' Please, won't you shift your supercharger
onto the 'good afternoon' just once?"

Martha Wilkerson started her radio career working in a
Los Angeles station, doing all sorts of administrative jobs.
She was broadcasting overseas for the OW1 when Lewis
heard her and brought her to AFRS in 1943. She was just
24, America's answer to Axis Sally and Tokyo Rose.
Given free rein, Wilkerson worked up her own scripts
and developed her audience, playing records, telling
jokes, encouraging requests and answering her mail.
Routinely, it all required lS-hour days.(lO)

Producing and transcribing Jill's and all the other
programs were only the first steps in the process of
delivering the news, information and entertainment to the
troops. Lewis and his staff had decided earlier to send the
programs on transcriptions to the individual stations for
broadcast. AFRS began to develop and expand its short-
wave section with the OVVI operation. By September 1,
1943, AFRS was shortwaving one hundred and two hours
of programming a week. In September, OVVI agreed to
give AFRS an allocation of time blocks on the more
important broadcast beams. That gave AFRS the oppor-
tunity for more programs with an orderly schedule.

WORLD-WIDE BROADCASTING

To run the short-wave section, Lewis brought in
J. Carter Hermann, who'd been working in OVVI as
Assistant Chief of its Bureau of Communication Facilities.
Besides the headquarters facilities, AFRS had offices and
studios in New York and San Francisco that did the actual
broadcasting of the programs overseas. From the east
coast, the England/Mediterranean beam reached En-
gland, North Africa, Italy, Sicily, the Mediterranean, and
after D-Day, the continent The New York facility also
provided programming to Central Africa and Greenland.
From San Francisco, programs went to Alaska, China, the
Southwest Pacific, South Pacific, South and Central
America, the Caribbean, and the Antilles,

Although AFRS delivered its programming on disks,
the short-wave operation broadcast six hours of its own
entertainment productions and decommercialized shows.
Short-wave provided news every hour on the hour,
special features on international events, general interest

items and small town happenings. AFRS considered the
latter programming to be highly important for morale.
They broadcast the fifteen-minute program "Hometown
Highlights" every day on all beams. They relayed major
events either live or re-created by recordings. The men in
the field probably listened to the sports programs with
most interest.

Besides the play-by-play broadcasts, the short-wave
section had special-interest shows. These included
"Sports Mail Bag," which answered questions sent in
from the men in the field. On one occasion, the program
received a letter from New Guinea asking "Sports Mail
Bag" to settle a beL Had Bennv Leonard fought Lew
Tendler once or twice, the reader asked. A few days later,
Leonard himself answered in person on the air!

AFRS paid particular attention to the news, trying to
present it as accurately and free from bias as the news-
casts aired on commercial radio. The Army News Service
gathered the news from the press wire services, wrote the
scripts and turned them over to the two short-wave
offices for broadcast by enlisted men. The use of a soldier
as the announcer gave the men in the field more confi-
dence in what they heard than if a civilian read die copy.
Armed forces broadcasting still operates under the same
time-proven philosophy.

Perhaps at no time during the war was this confidence
needed more than when AFRS announced the death of
President Roosevelt on April 12, 1945, AFRS received
word that Roosevelt had died at 4:49 EST. AFRS put the
bulletin on the air at 552 EST when England, Europe anci
the Mediterranean began receiving shortwave programs
Until 7:00 EST on April 15, AFRS operations proceeded
on a restricted schedule with the entertainment program;
cancelled. Every short-wave program had a direct
relationship either in factual content or in type, to the
gravity of the hour. The AFRS office maintained the
closes possible liaison with the major network newsroorrs
and special events departments for the entire period of
restricted schedules. Even after the end of limited
broadcasts, AFRS continued to monitor the programs of
the major networks so that it could keep the troops
informed of developments.

During the restricted period, AFRS increased most of
I the five-minute newscasts to fifteen-minutes. The news
carried mostly information about the President's death,
amplification of the details of the story, news of the
movement of the President's casket and news of the
funeral and burial services. In addition, the newscasts
provided a wealth of material on the new President,
Harry S. Truman,

AFRS aired the first program about President Truman
at 7:30 AM EST on April 13. As with all the informational
broadcasts, this one drew heavily on material that the

commercial networks had already presented to their
domestic audiences. Other programs included the

reaction of Hyde Park to Roosevelt's death and reports of
the burial from several eyewitnesses. AFRS also broadcast
several memorial tributes to the late President. From New-
York, Bill Stem brought many of the leading figures in
sports to the air with their recollections of Roosevelt.

During the funeral services at the White House on
April 15, AFRS observed a five-minute period of silence.
Ravmond Massey followed, reading the address Presi-
dent Roosevelt had planned to give that evening. An
announcer described the funeral rites. After the burial at
Hyde Park on the 16th, AFRS carried a special Hollywood
tribute to the President condensed from a two-hour
program one of the commercial networks had aired.

In covering the three days of mourning and ceremony,
AFRS fulfilled all the expectations which General
Marshall had expressed when he created the radio
service.

AFRS had gone well beyond its original conception as
a purely Army organization.

THE NAVY JOINS AFRS

On October 14, 1944, General Osbom sent a Memoran-
dum to the Chief of Naval Personnel. The Navy had
"indicated a desire to participate more fully in the
operating and fiscal responsibilities of Armed Forces
fadio." His memorandum advised that the War and
Navy Departments had authorized full Navy participa-
tion in the service.

Osbom further explained that the Army and Navy had
reached an agreement on a general cooperation in a
conference on September 25, 1944. The meeting estab-
lished specific policy bases.

Command authority for the combined operation was
to remain vested in the Army with the Navy having
representatives on the AFRS headquarters' staffs, boards
and polity-formulating commitees. The Navy was to
provide "professionally qualified personnel (Navy, Coast
Guard or Marine Corps) in sufficient numbers to sustain
itsresponsibihK'inthecombmedoDerations.'' The War
Department would periodically submit a statement
detailing actual expenditures made to carry on the Navy's
share of the service. Both the Army and Navy "demands
for transcriptions and other technical facilities and
services [would] receive fair and equitabe attention,"
according to Osbom. Each service would have their
allocation of the resources "continually reviewed and
readjusted on the present operational basi5."(12)

Lewis completed the formal agreement at a meeting in
Los Angeles. It merely authenticated a working arrange-
ment that had been going on for more than a year. By
June, 1944, the Navy was operating two radio'stations that

used the AFRS programming. An Ensign in the Los
Angeles headquarters acted as the Navy's liaison. Besides
the land-based stations, AFRS was supplying a weekly
transcription package and the entire music library to
submarines and service ships.(13)

THE 1.000.000TH DISC

To supply the increasing number of stations and ships,
AFRS pressed its one-millionth disc for shipment over-
seas in March, 1945. Lewis received the svinbolic 16-inch
plastic disc in a brief ceremony on the 12th. On the disc
was the newest issue of "G.l. Journal" whose cast in-
cluded Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Linda Darnell, Betty
Grable and Abbott and CosteUo.

All battle and supply areas overseas received each of
the half-hour discs flown to them. It was a logistics feat
equal to any carried out during the war. The weekly
packages transferred from station to station on planned
circuits. The packages included suggested program
schedules and script suggestions for the locally-produced
programs. In a speech to the Advertising Club in Los
Angeles commemorating the 25th anniversary of radio on
February 6, 1945, AFRS Commander Lewis explained
radio's task this way; The Air Force had one target - the
enemy. In contrast, radio had three targets - Americans at
home, friends and enemies in foreign lands and the
American troops all over the world. AFRS was a big job.

Lewis said, " "Victory through Air Power' has come to
mean not just wings of steel over Berlin and Tokyo — but
wings of words over the World! Before radio, the pen
might have been mightier than the sword, but, radio has
made the spoken word a weapon of war. It is far more
than rhetoric to say that words are a sniper's bullet! A
rocket shell from a landing boat! Words are long range
artillery! Words are "bombs away!' Words are ideas and
this is a war of ideas! The free mind of Democracy is at
war with the slave mind of Totalitarianism!"

Lewis told his audience that AFRS was playing its part
by reaching the troops in the field "as a superhighway
bringing the sound and memory of America to its sons
and daughters - providing forgetfulness to the wounded -
relaxation to those tense from the fatigue of battle - filling
the void of home-sickness and the emptiness of boredom
- providing up-to-the-minute news for the anxious -
education for the ambitious - orientation on the meaning

' of this war for all!"

While these were the foals of Lewis and his staff, to

\ most of the men in the field, AFRS undoubtedly was just
"a little bit of home."

Lewis conveyed all this in a letter he read to the
audience. In it, a Chief Steward aboard a Merchant
Marine ship off the Normandy beaches described the
impact radio had on him:

59

"It's not a pretty sight to see American ships blown
up by a floating mine or a direct hit from one of the
shore guns. Believe me, this was really a test of nerves.
Can you imagine how we felt when we came into the
mess room for a cup of coffee and to sit down for half an
hour? The radio was on and there was a broadcast from
the American Forces Network, of 'Command Perfor-
mance.' It was good to hear the other crew members
laugh at the jokes of the radio stars and hum the same
tunes that the vocalist was singing. For just a moment,
the grim business of carrying out the war seemed so
remote. I imagined that I was at home safely listening
to my bedroom radio. Listening to their radio here in
the ship's mess room seemed to give a lift to all the
crew.

".-And When they called us on deck to abandon ship
- the radio was still playing."

NOTES -CHAPTER 13

(1} Symposium discussion; Interview with A! Scalpone,

September 16, 1981
(2) Svmposium.
| (3) Ibid.

I (4) Symposium, July 13, 1983.

(5) Interview with Sylvester Weaver, June 21, 1983.
1 (6) Ibid.

(7) Ibid.
! (8) Ibid.

1 (9) Radio Daily, December 2. 1944.

| (10) Jane and Woodrow Wirsing, "Here's Hill!"

This WeekMagazitie, April 22, 1945.
1 (11) Ibid.

(12) Ibid.

(13) Daily Variety, June 2, 1944.

60

CHAPTER 14

BROADCASTING IN
THE PACIFIC

In his speech to the Ad Club, Tom Lewis described
how the Armed Forces Radio stations followed "the
sound of the guns" wherever American troops were
righting: on land, on the sea and under the sea, and even
to airplanes in flight In military terms, radio was "on the
offensive." It was bringing "a tittle bit of home" to the
sen-icemen - and it was helping even more to bring
servicemen back home.

After three years of effort, the huge wall map at their
Headquarters reflected flags that denoted more and
more stations in operation "There's still that soldier, he
said, "that Navy man, somewhere not yet reached by any
of our efforts, there's still that spot waiting for its
transmitter or its receiver. Our job is to find that man and
fill that need. (There are] three things we've learned so
tar: nothing's perfect, nothing's complete, nothing's
static There's noihing perfect in war - perhaps because
perfection is peace,"(l)

THE MOSQUITO NETWORK

In contrast to AFN-Europe the troops island-hopping
across the Pacific had no resources of their own to draw
from in establishing radio operations. So, APRS became
more directly involved in setting up stations. The tropical
heat and moisture combined to limit the useful life
of the radio receivers to about four months, which further
exacerbated the shortage of radios among the troops.
Finally, the Army developed and sent overseas a
compact plastic-sprayed set that was virtually water-
proof. (2)

In early 1944 the station at Noumea became the
flagship station of what became known as The Mosquito
Network of seven stations spread across the Southwest
Pacific, Because of the distance that separated the islands,
it remained a network in name and perception only. It
functioned more as an association of outlets, each provid-
ing news, education and information to its isolated
military audience.

A station was erected on Guadalcanal following the
one on Noumea. It began test broadcasting on March 1,
1945. The station's commanding officer, Captain Spencer
.•Mien, and his crew of two officers and eight enlisted men,
arrived on February 15, after going through the training
course at AFRS headquarters. Army engineers and Signal

Corpsrnen erected a twenty- by forty-foot wooden shack
in a muddy coconut grove to house the studio and control
room. The staff then set up the equipment, which it had
brought with them. Power for the broadcasts came from
a Signal Corps generator driven by a Jeep motor. After a
brief shakedown period, the station went on the air
officially on March 13, 1945. It had a normal range of
thirty-five to fifty miles, although it occasionally reached
out as far as a thousand miles.{3)

Like all AFRS operations, the station broadcast fifteen
minutes of the latest news at 7:00 and 8:00 AM each
morning. At 12:30 PM, several times a week, chaplains of
different faiths gave spiritual talks. The evening broad-
cast schedule included the standard AFRS transcribed
programs. As Captain Allen told a Marine combat
correspondent shortly after the station opened, its
facilities were available to each of the Services stationed
on Guadalcanal. He explained that he planned to keep
open a half-hour each night for the different units. Other
locally-produced programs included shows by the Red
Cross band, concerts, religious services at the memorial
chapel and live descriptions of amateur boxing matches
held on the islancL(4)

A year after the first stations went on the air, Allen
became a Major and Chief of the Armed Forces Radio
Sen-ice, Southern Pacific Bases Command. He com-
manded the stations on New Caledonia, Guadalcanal,
Munda, Bougainville, Espiritu Santo, Nandi and Tutila.
Allen observed, "We have completed the pioneering.
Broadcasting has become a routine, businesslike proce-
dure. Gone is the haywire. In its place are commercial
transmitters and consoles, heaw-duty turntables and
recording equipment, professional amplifiers and micro-
phones. We're on the air, hour after hour, on split-second
schedules." In contrast to the breakdowns and dead air in
the early days of the Mosquito Network, broadcast
problems had become rare by April, 1945.(5)

The most important aspect of the Mosquito Network
was that it became an integral part of the soldiers' lives,
right up there with food, work, training, movies and mail.
The listeners came to resemble radio audiences back in
the States. AUen explained, "Where once the listener
was happy if we played nothing but Hairy James record-
ings all day, now he's a critic. We're downright abused if
we clip the last two minutes of the NBC Symphony to
join San Francisco [short-wave] for the news, or if we
cancel 'Your Radio Theater ('Lux, to you')/ or if we play
'Rum and Coca Cola' too many times. In short, the longer
we're in operation, the more conservative and demanding
the G.I.s become in their listener tastes. We use the
phrase 'comparable to standard American commercial
broadcasting practices' to indicate the tone by which the
Mosquito Network operates."(6)

THE FIRST "SPOTS"

The Network's primary job was to create good morale
which Allen believed the stations accomplished "auto-
maticaUy, just by being on the air with Stateside shows
and good local programs.'* Like commercial stations, the
Mosquito Network had information to sell, such as
mosquito repellent A typical spot announcement told
the soldiers:

"Are YOU repellent? Yes? Then use Tougours Gai; it
keeps the mosquitoes away. Remember, rub it in your
delicate skin each evening as the sun goes down. Thank
YOU."(7)

The "commercials" and their delivery were ever)' bit as
sophisticated as advertisements presented back home.
For instance, taking atabrine was essential to avoid
malaria in the regions of the South Pacific Since the
soldiers often forgot the network stations developed a
campaign to remind them. On Guadalcanal, the station
featured "The Atabrine Cocktail Hour" each evening at
5:30. The program consisted of fifteen minutes of re-
corded music and contained no direct reference to the
taking of atabrine. Yet, the suburrurial message came
through, as the announcer pretended to bring the listener
"cocktail music" from some sumptuous lounge such as
the "Fungus Festooned Fern Room" or "The Starlight
Roof high atop Hotel DeGink in downtown Guadalcanal,"
A soldier would listen to find out from where the
"Atabrine Cocktail Hour" was "originating." Without
even realizing it he'd hear "atabrine" at least twice,
thereby reinforcing the idea that he should take his
medicine.{8)

The Mosquito Network stations "unabashedly bor-
rowed" their style of "infomercials" from the most
recognizable spots on radio back home. They "adver-
tised" not only to fight mosquitoes and malaria, but also
to sell security through silence. The "DT/SMS (Don't
Talk, Silence Means Security)" campaign imitated the
Lucky Strike "LS/MFT" slogan. It was corny and
perhaps even bad radio, but it was effective

"I defy anyone to find one soldier out of a hundred on
New Caledonia who doesn't know that DT/SMS' means
today," Allen argued.{9)

Information and entertainment were primary prod-
ucts, while each of the outlet also provided news up to
fourteen times a day. Mostly they rebroadcast the short-
wave pickups direcly from the United States. Although
the stations had captive audiences, the motivating idea
was to keep the listeners content. Each station tried to
provide the same mixture of the news, sports, and
entertainment as was broadcast back home This ap-
proach worked as well in the South Pacific as it did in the
United States.(lO)

The program mixture also worked well with New

Zealanders who listened to the Mosquito Network station
at Mangere, near Auckland. Early in '44, the New
Zealand government gave APRS a radio frequency to
provide information and entertainment to American
servicemen stationed in their country. The New Zealand
Broadcasting Service (NZBS) provided technicians to
operate the station and the Mosquito Network Command
sent four qualified enlisted men to sen-ice as the program
personnel. The station became the southernmost outlet of
the Network. It broadcast both the regular AFRS tran-
scription package and locally-produced programs,
recorded and live

While the station existed for the benefit of the U. S.
Forces in New Zealand, the Americanized program
schedule had an important impact on civilians. In letters
to the station, the New Zealanders expressed appreciation
for the AFRS programs and for the understanding
which they helped promote between their country and
the United States. "We feel that we have learned to
appreciate your American viewpoint, as perhaps you
have done with regard to us 'EnZedders,'" one listener
wrote

The station went off the air in December, 1944, after
only eight months of operation. A writer to the Auckland
Star wrote, "It's been so nice to know you. Parting is
such sweet sorrow. You've taught us how to smile, a
lesson we so badly needed. The old town won't seem the
same when the American station is off the air. Many a
radio will want for use when you're gone, mine espe-
cially. "(11)

THE JUNGLE NETWORK

The Mosquito Network was not the only AFRS
operation in the Pacific. In the Central Pacific, the Jungle
Network covered the vast territory from the Hawaiian
Islands to the Philippines. Given the wide ocean
expanse, the Navy, under the Command of Admiral
Chester Nimitz, assumed command of the area. As the
Army moved onto the islands that dotted the sea, the
local commanders began seeking AFRS service for their
troops. Their request reached APRS headquarters in the
spring of 1943, and Lewis ordered toaidrnan to go to
the mid-Pacific to plan for station activities.

Departing in May, 1943, Boardman faced the job of
convincing local Navy Officers of the need for stations
on islands they commanded. Because the islands had
both Army and Navy personnel stationed on them,
Boardman had to obtain authorization from commanders
of both services. He then had to explain to the Navy
Command at their Mid-Pacific Headquarters the value of
providing radio to the soldiers and sailors in the field
Only after all this effort did he secure a joint working
agreement to begin establishing radio stations.

B2

The first broadcast operation began on New Guinea
as a joint venture of the United States Army and the

Australian Broadcast Company. Located at Port Moresby
on the southern coast of the island, the station began
operating on February 26, 1944. Australian Captain
Robin Wood and US. Army Captain Edgar Tidwefl
commanded a six-man American contingent. In May,
Tidwefl began the first purely AFRS station at Nadzab on
Mew Guinea. Hie station signed on the air May 8, located
precariously on the side of a hill that at various times was
either sundrenched or rain-swept.

While Nadzab went on the air first, Finschaafen, which
was operational on June 4. became the flagship station of
the jungle Network. Located in a hvenry-by-forty-fbot
prefabricated hut atop a hill overlooking the Fvnsch
harbor, onlv a deeply muddied road provided access to
the station. Besides the main building, the facility in-
cluded tents for the enlisted men and officers, and a
generator shelter. The studios were practically inacces-
sible, so the staff produced live shows down the hill in an
engineer recreation haU.(12)

By the end of August. Ted Sherdeman, the Jungle
Network Commander, had an opportunity to put the
operation in perspective. In a letter to Lewis, he detailed
the nature of broadcasting in the Central Pacific. His
analysis of conditions and philosophy of operation
provides an excellent picture of AFRS in the field. He
warned Lewis: "Don't, to the slightest degree, wave the
flag. It's sure death. I'd suggest you have even- script
carefully gone over by somebody who's been over here - 1
mean somebodv who's been stuck in New Guinea for a
while. The brief inspection trips can't reveal the truths of
what men feel in this country. Only those who have lived
in it and gone through the loving and hating it can tell
whether a script is honest or not. If it isn't honest, if it
doesn't ring true to them - they'll jeer it down."(13)

In his concept of operation, Sherdeman saw entertain-
ment as a carrot to draw listeners to the information and
education mission of AFRS. "The I & E Section seeks the
mental good that comes from men receiving accurate and
timely information about the war, themselves, their
country and their home. We want to stimulate their
thinking about everything from algebra to mamtaining a
truck. Radio entertainment, as provided by you. is the
shimmy dancer in front of our medicine tent. When the
dancer is through, we sell the health medicine of the day
to the crowd that gathers, just as we sold soap after the
last joke at home."(14)

According to Sherdeman, the stations under his
command had two missions. First, they would provide
the best possible service to meir immediate area. Second,
they'd serve "the men of the base to the exclusion of all
others." To accomplish this purpose, the station com-

mander should contact the base commander or his
immediate subordinates at least once each week. He
should seek to "discover what problems have arisen that
the radio station can help solve, from accident prevention
to conservation and securitv measures. No Commanding
Officer of a base has problems which, if they require the
cooperation of the enlisted men, the radio station can't
help solve. We're pro\ing the radio stations can and do
solve problems right along. We gather them in with Bing
Crosby and then sell them their atabrine. It works."

Sherdeman believed that the AFRS stations should
provide "the best possible service to the theatre com-
mand. Theatre problems are a main concern of AFRS
headquarters. They prepare scripts and announcements
and send them out to each station, specifying the time and
day for broadcast "(15)

Following the policies which Lewis had established, no
officers appeared on the air except for Chaplains, Base
Commanders or General Officers. An enlisted man
served as the station's Program Director. He was respon-
sible to the Officer In Charge for all program matters
except censorship. In this capacity, he maintained the
ideal of AFRS functioning "by and for the enlisted man."
The service encouraged the enlisted men at each station to
work out their own problems. The Officer In Charge had
a role of "guiding but not leading. "(16)

Reports such as Sherdeman's helped AFRS improve its
service during a time of continual expansion of outlets.
To provide additional information. Lewis dispatched
Austin Peterson, Chief of the Program Section, to the
Pacific. Peterson's reports, in the form of long letters,
provide a detailed account of AFRS operations in the
Pacific in early 1W5-

Peterson's accounts showed how AFRS had become so
intimatelv involved with the life of the troops. On the
first leg of his trip, from Seattle to Hawaii, Peterson found
that the men's initial contact with AFRS came as soon as
they left mainland shores. Aboard the transport ship, a
PA system played music from V-Discs, the AFRS music
library and transcriptions, sports events rebroadcast from
short-wave, and news. Peterson had an immediate
suggestion that material provided for transports should
contain nothing that would date it or sound "like we're
giving the boys old stuff. Phrases like 'Here's a brand
new tune' - or, high in popularitv poll today is 'Mairzv
Doats" should be shunned like malaria. "(17)

By the time Peterson reached Kwajalein. he'd come to
the realization that AFRS had underestimated the life of
its discs. He concluded that "no AFRS disc ever dies - its
soul goes creeping from turntable to turntable into
etemitv. That's why I feel we should survev our smaller
shows, make them timeless and just as good listening two
years from now as today."(18)

EARLY SCRAPPING FOR PARTS

By the time he reached Saipan, Peterson determined
that a serious shortage of radios existed in the field.
Early war directives had prevented soldiers from taking
radios overseas. That created a problem of a lack of
receivers. The Saipan station had distributed 341 radios
to hospitals and other strategic listening points on a loan
basis, wherein all borrowers had to sign for the sets.

In his letter to Lewis from Manila, Peterson wrote,
"Not enough radios in forward area. When you talk
about a station coming in, they say 'what's the good of a
station if you don't have a radio?' I think thev have
something there. It hurts me to think what even 1,000
radios would mean in Manila right now. "(19)

Peterson found similar shortages in station equipment.
On Saipan, the station had to borrow a short-wave
receiver from the OWI and on Guam, one from the
base communications office. He wrote, "Seems a shame
we force stations in the field to chisel and borrow equip-
ment that should be automatic issue. The greatest
thing in the world to get a new station off to a fixing start
is to send in the station completely equipped from
quonset to typewriter "(20)

Peterson undoubtedly expected too much from AFRS
and the Armed Forces. Shortages were to be expected as
the military prepared tor the final assault on Japan.
Typical of military creativity, local commanders were
continually providing the resources to upgrade facilities.
To be sure, some stations remained rather primitive.

George Vemer was back from New Guinea after two
years working at the Jungle Network station. He
recalled how the staff put together the studio: "We fold
Army Blankets and wrap them around the walls,
inside and out On the ceiling, we use an open parachute,
both for ornamental effect and to improve the acous-
tks."(21)

By the time Peterson arrived on Guam, most stations
had acquired or were in the process of building perma-
nent facilities. The Guam station had completed plans
for new facilities and construction had begun on
an auditorium for 150- person studios, and offices.
The work was a combined effort of the navy SeaBees
and Japanese prisoners. The military police provided
security.(22)

m due course, most of the stations obtained adequate
facilities such as the one Peterson found at Ulithi He
located the well-camouflaged building "about 200-feet off
the road... an ideal location for a radio station. That is, it's
ideal if you don't mind having a fuel dump on one side of
you and an ammunition dump on the other!"(23)

PROGRAMMING IN THE TROPICS

As Chief of Programming, Peterson always concerned

himself with what the troops were hearing on the radio.
At Eniwetok, for example, he found that the nine most
popular shows were "Command Performance," "G.I.
Journal," "Mai! Call," "Jubilee," "Personal Album," "G.I.
Jive," "Yank Suing Session," "Downbeat" and "Melody
! Round-Up." Another popular show in the Jungle Net-
( work area was "Uncle Efrim." It was locally-produced
and broadcast during the noon hour at Hollandia. A
takeoff on the popular stateside character known as Uncle
Ezra, Efrim would ad lib and plav country and western
records daily for fifteen minutes.(24>

AFRS KEEPS ON GROWING

An ever-growing number of outlets received the local
programs and the AFRS package. From 120 stations in
December, 1943, the AFRS network grew to 154 stations
by March, 1945. Outlets covered all comers of the World
including the Middle East, Europe. North Africa, the
! China -Burma-India Theater, Alaska, the Caribbean,
Central America, and the South Pacific. In addition,
AFRS operated 143 public address systems overseas and
the Bedside Network in veterans' hospitals throughout
the United States. Each outlet received the AFRS packet
of transcriptions containing an average of 126 separate
programs either specially -produced by the Hollywood
headquarters or decommerrialized shows.

AFRS was a broadcast operation that provided some-
thing for everyone. Spencer Allen, the Chief of the
! Mosquito Network, responded to a question of why
AFRS catered to mass tastes when it might give the men
"better things." "Actually, we're probably more high-
brow than the average station back home. Nonetheless,
we don't forget that our servicemen are a cross-sectioa
They want Benny and Hope, Ham' James and Kay Kyser,
John Charles Thomas and the NBC Symphony. They
want them in just about the same proportion your
listeners in New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and Plum
Tree Crossing back home want them. So we give it to
them in that proportion - otherwise, we're going to lose
some customers and Tokyo Rose will gain some."(25)

By September, 1945, the American Forces landed in
Yokohama. The Allies arrested Tokyo Rose, and AFRS
reached to all comers of the world. It had carried out its
mission better than anyone would've thought possible
back when Tom Lewis received his mandate to create a
military radio operation in May, 1942. Observing AFRS
in operation during his four-month tour, Austin Peterson
could not contain his enthusiasm He wrote to Lewis, "1
swore when I got back, 1 wouldn't use the phrase 'You're
doing a grand job' but damn if they aren't. If you are to
be truthful, what else can you say? All you have to do is
see what radio means to men out here and it makes it all
worthwhile"(26)

POST-WAR RADIO

The creativity found in AFRS-originated programming
marked the high point in radio broadcast history. The end
of the war by no means signified the end of Armed Forces
Radio. Some would say that Armed Forces Radio per-
formed its most important work during the immediate
postwar period.

In such places as Mindanao, the AFRS station broadcast
special instructions to Japanese still hiding in the nearby
hills. For two hours each day, American-bom Japanese
instructed Japanese soldiers how to surrender and assured
them that the Americans would comply with all rules of
the Geneva Conventions. To insure the soldiers would be
able to hear the messages, the Army dropped radios by
parachute to selected regions, included in the packages
were operating instructions in Japanese and information
on how to tune to the station's frequency. (27)

Convincing the Japanese that everything would be alJ
right was not a new technique for AFRS. Stations had
been educating and informing audiences about health,
careers, savings bonds and many other things for almost
three years. When it was over, AFRS faced a new com-
mand information job - preparing the troops for the
transition from military back to civilians life. Even before
the day of victory, AFRS prepared a series of programs
explaining how hoops would be discharged. Radio
became the vehicle for explaining to others who remained,
and to new troops arriving, their importance as the
occupying force.

Back home in the Los Angeles Headquarters, the
writers, producers and technicians all tried to get out of
uniform as quickly as possible. Entertainers lost interest
in contributing their talents. As Martin Work took
command from Lewis in October, 1945, he faced the
problems of maintaining product quality while cutting
back on original programming.

While the post-war period both in Hollywood and
around the world taxed their creativity, once again AFRS
came through. Operations of the Armed Forces Radio
Service continued without interruption.

However, like the troops they served, AFRS found
itself in transition.

NOTES -CHAPTER 14

(1) Tom Lewis, Victory Through Air Power,
February 6, 1945.

(2) Time, July 17, 1944.

(3) Spencer Allen, Letter to AFRTS, February 1, 1984,
Chicago Sunday Tribune, May 7, 1944, Pt 3, p 71.

(4) Ibid.

(5) Broadcasting, April 30, 1945.

(6) Ibid.

(7) Ibid; Time, July 17, 1944.

(8) Allen, Broadcasting.

(9) Ibid.

(10) Ibid.

(11) They loved us in New Zealand! The Mosquito Network,
Information Education Section, South Pacific Base
Command, March 10, 1945.

(12) Major Ted Sherdeman to Col Tom Lewis,
August 31, 1944.

(13) Ibid.

(14) Ibid.

(15) Ibid.

(16) Ibid.

(17) Austin Peterson, Hitciihiker on AFRS Road to Tokyo,

A collection of letters, n.d.[December 194 - March" 1945],
cited hereafter as Peterson.

(18) Peterson.

(19) Peterson.

(20) Peterson.

(21) Hollywood Radio Studios, Jungle Stations
Contrasted, Citizen News, Februarv 27, 1945.

(22) Peterson.

(23) Peterson.

(24) Peterson.

(25) Spencer Allen, Broadcasting, April 30, 1945.

(26) Peterson.

(27) Armed Forces Radio Service, AFRS Playback,
October 22, 1945, p 9.

CHAPTER 15

AFRS IN THE
TRANSITION YEARS

AFN may not have carried General Eisenhower's
victory message, but, thanks to Ben Hoberman, the
Network did manage to scoop the world in reporting the
\ictory over Japan.

Hoberman had returned to Paris from helping Bob
Light set up the Munich station, and was Officer of the
Day at AFN on Sunday, August 12, 1945. Like everyone
else, he'd heard rumors that Japan was about to surren-
der. He decided there must be a way of deterrnining the
accuracy of the stories. "I picked up the telephone," he
recounts, " and called the Japanese military attache in
Bern, Switzerland. I figured I was calling a neutral
country. I didn't want to be confused with communicat-
ing with the enemy. "(1)

"The timing of it was marvelous. The attache, who
spoke magnificent English, was crying on the telephone
with me in response to my question of whether it was
true that the Japanese had surrendered. He'd just gotten
off the phone with the Minister of War, who had con-
ruined that the Japanese had surrendered. I immediately
called AFN Headquarters in London with the news. I
had no thoughts of simply reporting the news from Paris
because it was a big Story. I recognized that it should
come out of our main news operation. That's how AFRS
would do it."(2)

Such initiative helped give the AFN news operation
the credibility to draw to it a civilian audience throughout
Europe in the post-war years.

ORGANIZATIONAL CHANGES

This period of transition lacked the drama of the
wartime conditions. When the American fighting man
suddenly found himself with time on his hands, it became
essential that he know what was going to happen in the
coming weeks and months. In Europe and in the Pacific,
AFRS readied itself with a series of specially-prepared
programs detailing the new peacetime situation. Mean-
while, the Hollywood headquarters and the affiliates
continued to send out a full schedule of entertainment
programs.

Lewis' organization would undergo major changes as
soon as hostilities concluded. Irnmediately after V-J Day,
AFRS prepared an "Armed Forces Radio Service Forward
Plan" for the period from November 1, 1945, to July 1,

SB

1946. The three-volume plan set forth the premise: "The
Armed Forces Radio Service will serve as long as there is
a justifiable number of military personnel overseas and
in the hospitals in the Zone of the Interior.

Assuming that troop withdrawals would be made
rapidly, the Plan directed AFRS to begin a gradual
reduction in its program services on July 1, 1946. Then, a
new plan was to be drawn up "based upon the crystalli-
zation of the national policv of the War and Navy
Departments. "(3)

Would AFRS remain in operation once the war ended
. or would it wind up in mothballs to await another
conflict? Although the permanence of AFRS would not
come until after the Korean War, the Army's Information
and Education Division approved the Forward Plan and
instructed Lewis to implement it. That decision awarded
continuity to the information and entertainment activi-
1 ties, and to two lesser known AFRS activities, the short-
wave function and the Bedside Network.

AFRS had been sending out programming from
studios in New York, Los .Angeles, and San Francisco via
short-wave since 1943. Although news, sports and
1 special events accounted for most of the schedule, some
entertainment shows such as "G.I. Jive," "Melody
Roundup," and "Command Performance" were also
broadcast. Besides straight sportscasts, AFRS Sports
produced question-and-answer shows where the on-the-
air replies sometimes featured responses directly from
athletes and coaches. Because ot the daily limitations on
the numbers of hours the OW1 transmitters could
operate, AFRS either edited most of the baseball and
football games before putting them on the air or recre-
ated them from teletype accounts.

Despite the presumption that sports prograrruriing
would be the most popular short-wave broadcasts, the
Army News Service found that "interest in sports is
variable and spotty. The longer men have been away
from home, the less interest they seem to have in state-
side sports. "(7) As troops rotated from overseas and
new replacements came from the United States, sports
would once again become the centerpiece of the short-
wave operation.

.After the war, the New York office broadcast three
hours a day over four transmitters to Europe, the Carib-
bean, and the Middle East On the West Coast, AFRS
closed the San Francisco studios and Los Angeles took
over the entire short-wave operation. Seven transmitters
carried eleven hours of AFRS material and delivered
them to the Pacific. Again, the success of the broadcasts
could be measured by the quantity of fan mail that the
headquarters received, not only from Armed Forces
personnel, but also from foreign nationals who expressed
a special interest in American programming.

THE BEDSIDE NETWORK

The other lesser-known component of AFRS, the
Bedside Network, began operating during the war,
supplying transcriptions to military hospitals in the
United States. The headquarters in Los Angeles supplied
each hospital with the Basic Music library and the Troop
Information Programs, totalling seventeen hours of
material. Since patients could pick up commercial
prograrnrning, too, the hospital package didn't include
any decommercialized shows. During the war and for a
period afterwards, AFRS distributed the Bedside Net-
work package to the hospital circuits and let the indi-
vidual facilities provide transmission. AFRS headquar-
ters later provided technical equipment to the internal
broadcast systems in the hospitals and provided training
staffs to operate the stations.

Chaotic and uncertain conditions in the early post-war
period mitigated against any orderly implementation of
Lewis' Forward Plan. Despite the stated concerns about
the problems that would occur during the turnover in
personnel, the actual changes in key people occurred
more rapidly than anticipated. The entertainers, writers,
and directors-tumed-soldiers wanted to return to their
jobs in commercial radio as soon as possible. In addition,
since Lewis had recruited most of his staff early in the
war, many had accumulated enough points to qualify for
discharge.

Lewis tried from the beginning of the transition period
to prepare AFRS for the new challenges of peacetime. In
the September 17, 1945, edition of AFRS Playback, Lewis
told the staff, "Your job in the war just passed has been
one of the greatest You've suffered hardships, under-
gone many privations, yet you've done this willingly
because you know what Armed Forces Radio programs
and services have meant to our troops." Lewis said the
men's future in radio would be enhanced because of the
AFRS experience. "Before we all return to that life we've
dreamed about for so long, let's be sure that one challenge
we prepared AFRS to meet is still before it— the challenge
of assuring the continuation of AFRS as long as there's a
need"

Lewis left AFRS on October 25, 1945, and returned to
Young and Rubicam, as Vice President in charge of the
agency's radio operation. Major Martin Work, who had
replaced True Boardman in Lewis' Executive Officer,
assumed command of the organization pending the
assignment of a regular Army Officer. By the middle of
'46, a semblance of a civilian production staff had begun
to emerge.

Command of AFRS remained within the military as a
joint Army-Navy (and later Air Force) function. Opera-
tional control rested with the Radio Section, Troop
Information Branch, Troop Information & Education

Division, Special Staff, Department of the Army. In
contrast to the war years, when Lewis made the policy

decisions for AFRS, policy oversight passed to Washing-
ton in the post-war period The Los Angeles headquar-
ters now had responsibility for executing the, production,
distribution, technical advice and technical supply. The
broadcasting know-how, previously supplied by profes-
sional radio people in uniform, now came from civilians
choosing to work for the government rather than in
commercial radio. The evolution of this combined
military /civilian operation became the cornerstone of the
peacetime Armed Forces Radio Sen-ice.

POST-WAR PROGRAMMING

Larry Gelbart, of later "M*A"S*H" fame, arrived at
AFRS in early 1946 as a Private. After going through
basic training, he received his assignment as a writer
working on "Command Performance." Continuing its
wartime format, the program answered letters from the
troops asking for the appearance of particular entertain-
ers. At times when the program had a commitment from
a personality but no request, Gelbart simply manufac-
tured a letter.(S)

Throughout Gelbart's year of writing solely for
"Command Performance," the program retained its high
caliber, thanks to civilian director/ producer Claire
Weidnaar and the continued access to such entertainers as
Frank Sinatra, Crosby and Hope With an end to wartime
tensions and the need to take the men's minds off im-
pending combat, the sketches and dialogue sounded
more like commercial radio. The program still tried to
entertain the troops much as it had done during the war,
but the staff was directing its material "more for the boys
away from home than for troops in danger or who
wouldn't come back," Gelbart said.(9)

These days, the military nature of AFRS became less
significant "It was peacetime," Gelbart notes. "The
ranks were very thin. I remember I treated myself to an
officers' uniforms even though I was a Sergeant. There
was no red tape nor military formalities. It was just like
working on a regular radio show." Nevertheless, Gelbart
did occasionally pull night duty to guard the facility.

"I think my job was to prevent people from stealing
jokes or something," he quips.

Like his wartime counterparts, Gelbart was able to
moonlight on civilian radio shows.

"Nobodv seemed to mind. "(10)

Despite the continued production of "Command
Performance," AFRS began to experience a decline in the
production of in-house programs. There was a loss of
services from the entertainment community, changes in
personnel and the need to economize on all production
activities. At the end of the war, the Hollywood head-

67

• quarters was turning out twenty hours a week of original
programming. Although AFRS brought in civilian
writers, producers and musicians to work with the new
uniformed staff, the)* represented a cost directly charge-
able to each production. That hadn't been the case during
the war. By the beginning of 1947, AFRS had reduced its
original productions to fourteen-hours a week. Peacetime
versions of "Command Performance," "G.I. Jill," and
other programs continued on a smaller scale than the
wartime shows.

The remaining forty-one hours of weekly program
material sent out in the transcription package came from
the commercial networks.

Important for the basic mission of AFRS, 1947 saw the
beginning of a new information and education program.
Previously, the Troop Information activity had been
primarily a wartime device. It informed the troops about
the reasons for the war and to prepare them for a return
to civilian life or as an occupying army. The new pro-
gram had a different emphasis. Its foundation was in the
historical aspects of the military and the American way of
life. Its educational component taught the soldier about
his heritage in order to foster pride in his service and
country. AFRS included in the program package suitable
programs from the commercial networks, and produced
in -ho use original live documentaries.

Between 1947 and 1953, AFRS produced nineteen
series that portrayed the virtues of the American way.

One show. "Ambassador of Good Will," portrayed
American soldiers in occupied zones as ambassadors of
American ideals and democratic ideas. "This Is The
Story," later called "Libertv Theater," presented selected
dramatizations that stressed the ideas of the American
way of life as exemplified in both contemporary and
historical episodes. "The Pendleton Story" dramatized a
boy and his family in the new nation from 1776 to 1801.
And, each episode of "Medal of Honor" honored a
different man who had earned the nations' highest
award-

While stressing the virtues of life in the United States,
the service also took special care to portray the negative
side of the Soviet Union. "This is Russia" presented life in
the Soviet Union as supposedly seen through the eyes of a
typical Soviet citizen. "Anh<ommunism" first drama-
tized actual incidents within the Soviet Union or its
satellites. After the first 26 programs, the series shifted its
setting to Springfield. U5.A. to show what could happen
if communism took over America.

While the production of these live information and
education programs increased, entertainment shows
decreased. This was not onlv because of the cost of
prognuriming, but also because of a growing reluctance of
leading performers to appear on a regular basis. Bob

Hope, for one, said in 1948: "111 do one show per year for
the Army - that's all. I feel obligated to do other benefits
just as important to mv country, like cancer. Red Cross,
USO, and so forth."

To a significant degree, the talent problem didn't
center so much on obtaining the occasional services of big
show business stars, but with the hiring of supporting
actors and musicians. During the war years, supporting
actors and musicians used on the entertainment programs
had received a token fee under arrangements worked out
with the various guilds. The average rate was S10 for a
30-minute program with a minimum two-hour rehearsal.
The agreement continued until 1947 when the American
Federation of Theatrical, Radio Actors f AFTRA) and the
American Federation of Musicians (AFM) asked for a
review of the previous concessions. AFTRA felt that the
rate was no longer equitable in view of rising living costs
and the lack of a military emergency. The musicians
guild, whose members had a slightly higher rate of
compensation under the wartime agreement, asked mat
its members receive the full transcription rate when they
performed in the future. After all, AFM argued, AFRS
continued to enjoy free and urdirnited license to use all
recorded and network music in making up its transcrip-
tion packages.

AFRS negotiated a compromise that established a

j uniform concession arrangement for both guilds. The
agreement provided for slight, stepped increases in the
compensation over a five-year-period until 1952. Then
the guild members would receive a fee pegged at one-

. third of the prevailing commercial transcription rate. On
its part, AFRS had to accept two conditions. First, the
compensation rate was to be based on a minimum
number of musicians and actors expected to be hired
during one year's production operation. Second, unem-

, ployed actors and musicians were to have preferential
hiring rights.

While this settlement made it more difficult to fund
AFRS in-house productions, it didn't mean that the
communications industry lacked an appreciation for the
importance of military radio. While manufacturers of
ships, planes, tanks and other munitions enjoyed profits

. from government contracts, both AFM and AFTRA have

I continued to grant many concessions to the Armed
Forces. In 1948, AFM had specifically exempted AFRS
from its year-long national recording ban that affected all
recording companies. AFM also actively supported the
peacetime version of the "Jubilee" series in 1946 and 1947.

| The organization paid the musicians directly out of its
Welfare and Music for the Wounded Fund at a cost of
more than S35,000.

The increased cost of production tor AFRS created
problems in its continued efforts to maintain high quality.

By 1950, the organization reached the conclusion that it
could not maintain both information and entertainment
programming within the allotted fund structure. Defer-
ring to its primary mission, AFRS opted to devote its
resources to education and information. As a result, the
headquarters ended "Command Performance" and other
live entertainment shows during that year. To replace the
in-house entertainment productions, AFRS increased its
use of decommerrialized network and local programs to
sixty hours a week-

From then on, the Hollywood headquarters operated
primarily as a distribution center for news, information,
and entertainment programming. It functioned second-
arily as the producer of education and information
material geared exclusively to Americans in uniform.

"Command Performance," "Mail Call," "Jubilee," and
all the other classic original AFRS programs had been
aberrations. Only the unique wartime conditions,
demanding an all-out effort from the nations' entertain-
ers, made them possible. In peacetime, however, troops
in remote areas would undoubtedly benefit more from
the familiar entertainment they'd enjoyed back home.
This included not only the top-rated network programs,
but the in-house AFRS music shows, produced using
local disc jockeys and AFRS civilian employees.

The Armed Forces Radio Service that emerged from
the transition held fast to the mission and the guidelines

it had established in '42. It still broadcast command
information and education. It still provided regularly
scheduled news and entertainment programs little
different from those broadcast in the United States.

Now it had a new combined civilian/military staff, a
limited budget and a new reliance on decommercialized
programs. The Armed Forces Radio Service could only
fondly remember those classic programs of its infancy,
and the excitement and creativity that so distinguished it
in the wartime operations.

But. the\' weren't through making history.

NOTES -CHAPTER 15

(1) Hoberman interview.

(2) Ibid.

(3) Armed Forces Radio Service Forward Plan,
November 1, 1945, to July 1, 1946.

(4) Ibid

(5) Ibid.

(6) Ibid.

(7) William Miirplry to Army Nrios Service Personnel,
August 6, 1945.

(8) Interview with Larry Gelbart, August 4, 1943.

(9) Ibid.

(10) Ibid.

CHAPTER 16

AFRS IN POST-WAR
AND KORE A

The loss of original entertainment programming
production at Hollywood headquarters weakened
AFRS's connection with operations in the field. To Roy
Neal, the first Station Manager at AFN-Frankfurt, "AFRS
was something "over there' whose shortwave sounded
terrible and whose records were marvelous. That's all
AFRS was to us. It was a source of records."

That growing independence from Los Angeles didn't
lessen the importance of military broadcasting for the
troops overseas. A poll taken in the United States during
1945—46 showed that only one person in ten across the
country owned a radio. Yet, in the area covered bv AFN,
the PX sold 102,000 radios in the first year of opera tion.
That figures out to one radio for every three soldiers.(l)

There was no doubt a strong desire for "a little bit of
home" by the occupying forces. Still the Armed Forces
Network had no assurance that AFRS would continue
into the postwar period. The survival of military broad-
casting depended on how well it fulfilled its mission of
informing and educating its audience with entertainment
and news.

In October, 1945, Roy Neal asked General Eisenhower
if he would speak on the radio to the troops. They were
growing edgy about not going home It turned out to be
the Supreme Commander's farewell speech, one which
AFN fed to the world.

Eisenhower didn't deal with the matter of troop
rotation, however, and the problem grew worse under his
successor, General Joseph McNamey. There was even
talk of a strike among the troops and according to Neal,
the threat "was quite real"(2}

I & E BECOMES ENTERTAINMENT

To solve the problem, Neal came up with an idea: "My
plan was very basic. If you talk to people, if you commu-
nicate to them on their level, then usually you can reason
with them." Neal introduced a question-and-answer
program to the troops in a series of spot announcements.
The spots encouraged the soldiers to send in postcards
with questions for the Army command. Each week, the
network selected representative questions. The soldiers
who sent in the selected queries flew to (AFN-) Frankfurt
to sit down with the Generals and ask their questions on
the air, live, on Sunday evenings.(3)

The program began in December, 1945.

"The show not only worked, but within two to three
weeks, the troops knew when they could plan on going
home. They knew how the point system worked. The)'
knew troops were coming in and in what numbers. They
knew where those troops were going to go because the
Generals were answering their questions."(4)

The program also helped improve the image of AFN.
.After the troop anxiousness died down, General
McNamey sent letters of appreciation to the Network.
His Chief of Staff followed with a call asking why both
officers and enlisted staff at AFN had such low ranks.
Neal explained that everyone at the network had arrived
in a temporary duty status:

"There's no table of organization for this outfit. None
of us ever get a raise. Actor Mickey Roonev has been
around here for two years. He came in as a buck Sergeant
and he's still a buck Sergeant." The General told Neal to
ask Lieutenant Colonel Oren Swain, the Network's senior
officer, to draft a table of organization. The General
promised it would be approved.(5)

It's uncertain if Mickey ever got his promotion.

Meanwhile, AFN began coverage of one of the most
significant events of the immediate postwar period. In
early November, 1945, Johnny Hayes, AFN-Frankfurt
News Director called Corporal Harold Burson into his
office to discuss "an assignment that we've got to fill, a
very sensitive one." Burson worked in the news depart-
ment. He'd transferred from the AFN- Paris office in July.
He'd worked with the Corps of Engineers, the 12th
Army's Publicity and Psychological Warfare Detachment
and the Press Section of the 15th Army.

"I need somebody who is apolitical," Hayes explained,
"somebody who'll report what he hears. The event is the
Nuernberg Trial. We want to staff it and we want to
make a major effort at covering it. We're prepared to give
you fifteen minutes every night at 9 PM."{6)

Burson, who'd been a reporter for the Commercial
Appeal in Memphis, agreed to take on the assignment.
However, he suggested that AFN present five minutes of
news and then ten minutes of trial coverage. Haves
accepted the change and then gave Burson a
correspondent's accreditation with all the rights of other
reporters covering the trial. He sent him to see General
Paul Thompson, Chief of the Information and Education
Division in General Eisenhower's Headquarters. There,
Thompson briefed him about the importance of the
assignment.(7)

Thompson told Burson that he considered coverage of
the Nuernberg Trial a critical job.

"The responsibility is such that you're going to be, in a
way, the official source of a lot of information to a lot of
people. All Europe's going to get their information from

70

you and we want unemotional reporting." Since Burson
was an enlisted man. Thompson instructed him to call
headquarters directly if he had problems with accredita-
tion or anything else Furthermore, he said, "If anyone
tries to coerce you, saving it is under the Army auspice
and they don't like what you are reporting and they tell
you to lay off of this, or don't do that, any attempt to
censor you, you call me!"(8)

The American Government saw the Nuernberg Trial as
politically sensitive with the Allies all playing off each
other. Events needed to be reported as objectively as
possible to establish a clear record of what had taken
place. Burson went to Nuernberg and reported the trial
for AFN until the middle of February, 1946. Bv then the
proceedings were near the end and he was close to
accumulating enough points to rotate back to the States.
Because of his southern accent, AFN kept Burson off the
air. Instead, an announcer with him read his written
reports from a broadcast booth in the courthouse.

The program ran ten minutes in length and later five
minutes after the trial settled into a regular routine. It
travelled to the AFN station in Nuernberg and from there
to Network headquarters in Frankfurt for distribution to
ail the affiliate stations.(9)

Burson's reports of the trial informed the American
troops what had happened in Germany under Hitler and
helped them understand why they were there as an
occupying Army. The accurate coverage of Nuernberg
also enhanced AFN's credibility as a news source that
could be trusted. The commitment to on-the-spot and
objective news reporting which Burson showed at
Nuernberg, helped insure the survival of the Network.

Colonel Swain had no idea whether the European
Command would maintain the Network when he
officially became AFN commander on April 1, 1946.
When he arrived, he found that a less-than-military
demeanor existed. Swain was the first AFN chief who'd
graduated from West Point. He intended to run the
organization as a normal Army unit as long as it lasted.

Swain ordered the broadcaster soldiers to fall in for
training every morning. When he did, station manager
Neal advised the commander, "You should realize, Sir,
that many of your troops work all night. We're an all-
night, 'round-the-clock operation. We're going to have to
do something drastic if you really insist that they fall out
and have morning training."

That didn't deter Swain. Except for those who were on
the air early in the morning, everyone would take part.
Neal decided that he couldn't maintain the overnight
operation, do the newscast and have the staff appear for
morning exercise, too. So, he simply folded the 7:00 AM
newscast - the favorite news program of the Theater
Commander. The next morning, he led his men in

physical training and then went to his office.
Then he waited.

Soon came a caU from the General wanting to know
what'd happened to the news. That ended Colonel
Swain's morning P.TJ(IO)

AFN had ready access to experienced radio and news
people and Swain transferred them into his operation
during the war. As long as the United States maintained
a draft, experienced broadcasters were available. Civilian
broadcasters were likewise willing to sign up for overseas
duty, particularly after Europe began to recover from the
wartime devastation.

With the smaller concentration of forces, staffing the
stations with experienced personnel was always more of a
problem for AFRS than it was for AFN. Military person-
nel were more often recruited because of the difficult}' of
hiring civilians for remote areas.

Unlike AFRS in the Pacific, Roy Neal, who also became
the AFN Program Manager, noted, "We weren't a
splintered operation. Once we had the network properly
organized, f was constantly doing things out of Munich,'
Berlin, Nuernberg and other stations, and I was con-
stantly going back to places such as Paris. We were
operating on a theater-wide basis."

With technical resources available, including original
magnetic tape recorders, AFN recorded live programs
when the USO performed for the troops and then built
shows around the recordings. Such creativity "also gave
our network increased stature. We were those wonderful
fellows who brought you Bob Hope when he first arrived
in Europe.

AFRS IN THE FAR EAST

The troops' need for American entertainment pro-
gramming was even higher on remote islands and in the
Far East. There, loneliness and cultural differences made
it more difficult for soldiers to adjust to overseas duty.
The great distances between stations forced the small
staffs to rely almost exclusively on the AFRS package for
prograrnming.

Far East postwar operations were much like that of the
Mosquito Network and the Jungle Network. In February,
1945, the Jungle Network moved its headquarters from
Hollandia, New Guinea to Manila where WVTR went on
the air in March.

FAR EAST NETWORK ESTABLISHED

Once settled into the new facilities, Major Graf
Boepple, OIC of the Manila station, decided mat a name
change for the Network was in order. He wrote a report
to MacArthur's Headquarters for the April 1 to June 30,
1945, quarter. "With the extension of the Armed Forces
Radio Service into populated areas of the Philippines," he

71

explained, "the former title 'Jungle Network' became a
misnomer. That necessitated adopting a new name for
this organization. Therefore on June 17, 1945. the former
'Jungle Network' officially became the 'Far East Net-
work.' The chain of fourteen active broadcasting stations
extended from Milne Bay, New Guinea to Manila,
Philippine Islands."(12)

Boeppel procured eight mobile radio stations to be
established following the planned invasion of the Japa-
nese islands. He use the 400-watt transmitters from the
stations-on-wheels that followed the troops throughout
the island-hoping campaign. His staff built each self-
contained, soundproofed studio on the frame of a two-
and-a-half ton truck. A complete record library was
included and augmented by transcriptions that came
from APRS headquarters. (13)

The atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and
Nagasaki ended the war sooner than expected, but APRS
was ready. When General Douglas MacArthur landed at
Atsugi Airport on August 30, 1945, to arrange for the
Japanese surrender, the AFRS staff from Manila was right
behind him to establish broadcast operations, Radio Daily
of September 7, 1945, reported mat four mobile radio
stations began operating in Japan and one in Korea
during the first week of the occupation. Broadcasting
reported on September 24, 1945, that FEN had network
stations located in Tokyo, Nagasaki, Osaka, and Aomgri.

Many claims exist regarding which station went on the
air first in Japan. In his 1961 report entitled, A Brief
History of the Far East NetWork, author Jordan Roscoe
reached several conclusions:

"The first actual American troop broadcast in Japan
originated from a portable transmitter operated by the
2nd Marine Division in Northern Kyush. It probably
used the call letters WVTO, no later man September 1,
1945, The first Army radio station, WLKH, came from the
24th Infantry Division at Kure. It went on the air within
the first 15 days of September. VWTQ, the first official
AFRS station in permanent studios, went on the air
September 12, from the Osaka headquarters of NHK, the
Japanese national broadcasting system. The first use of
the "Far East Network" designation took place on
September 21, when WVTR went on the air in Tokyo.
The first AFRS station to go on the air officially, WLKD in
Sapporo, began broadcasting on September 22. FinaUy,
WVTR in Tokyo and WVTQ in Osaka officially went on
the air on September 23."(14)

To obtain use of Japanese facilities, Boepple met with
representatives from the Army Signal Corps and the
Japanese government shortly after he arrived in Tokyo
from Manila. He explained that his Far East Network
wanted to use one of the two powerful radio stations in
Tokyo for sixteen-and-a-half hours each day. He would

use it along with the Number Two Japanese Network that
included 10-KW outlets in Hiroshima, Nagoya, Yamaoto,
Sapporo, Osaka, Senai and Tokyo. After two hours of
discussion using interpreters, they reached an agreement.
Following approval by the Japanese Ministry of Commu-
nications, FEN officially went on the air, on Sunday,
September 23, at 6:30 am with the program day lasting
until 11 PM.(15)

The Japanese could keep their 80-station Number One
Network on the air subject to U.S. censorship. American
music, news and sports soon permeated the airways
anyway. FEN retained the Japanese engineering and
technical staff. By January 1, 1947, the Far East Network
was comprised of sixteen stations. Seven were in Japan
and one each in Manila, Okinawa, Guam, Iwo Jima,
Saipan, the Admiralty Islands, and Seoul, Chonju'and
Pusan in Korea.

FEN remained a network in name only as the Tokyo
outlet merely fed news and special events bv shortwave.
Then, in August 1947, the Tokyo flagship station began
feeding programming to Osaka four hours a week by
landlines. Each local station played the AFRS transcrip-
tion package and produced its own programming. (16)

FEN stations dropped from a peak of thirty-nine FEN
stations at the beginning of '46 to sixteen a year later, as
bases consolidated and troops went home. Even so, FEN
began to resemble a functioning radio network. In
March, 1947, FEN held the first AFRS conference in the
Far East In attendance were radio officers from all 1 & E
Sections and OICs of radio stations from all the major
elements of the Far East Command (FEC). The attendees
discussed the proposed GHQ FEC Circular 49, the first
formal recognition of the Far East Network. Officially
released on May 3, 1947, this circular set forth the mission,
organization and functions of AFRS in the Far East
Command. The Radio Officer, I & E Section, would direct
AFRS under the supervision of the Information Officer,
GHQ FEC(17)

This evolution into a functioning network continued
during 1948 with regularly scheduled station manager
meetings. WVTR Tokyo started an AFRS school and
"radio clinic" to improve FEN's on-the-air service. The
station hired a "speech clinician" to travel to the stations
and work with the announcers. By the next war, the
clinician had become a "speech correctionalist" who
taught speech fundamentals and distributed a pamphlet
of speech aids. (18)

FIRST AFRS STATIONS IDENTIFIED
BY LOCATION

By early 1949, FEN consisted of eleven stations located
in Japan, Korea, Okinawa, the Philippine Islands and
Marianna Islands. On September 15th, all FEN stations

n

stopped using call letters and began identifying them-
selves with the geographical location followed bv

"Armed Forces Radio Service." (19)

FEN, like AFN and the other APRS operations, pro-
vided the theater and base commanders with an immedi-
ate means to reach their troops with information on all
subjects. Edgar Tidwell, who served with the Jungle
Network during the war, returned to the Far East in 1949
as Executive Officer of FEN and later as Network Com-
mander. He maintained close liaison with the station
managers through the semiannual meetings in Tokvo. He
went into the field regularly with the Network Chief
Engineer and Program Director to check station opera-
tions. When on the bases, he'd "always go in to see the
Commander and ask how things were going and if he
had any suggestions or ideas." Tidwell's meetings helped
maintain good relationships and insured a quick response
in times of crisis.

AFRS IN BERLIN

Nowhere was AFRS's value in an emergency better
demonstrated than during the Berlin Air Lift of 194S. The
Russian blockade of Berlin provided AFN with its biggest
news challenge of the immediate postwar years. AFN
newsmen flew back and forth to Berlin aboard the planes
carrying supplies to the besieged city. They conducted
spot interviews with the flight crews and talked with
Berliners. When the blockade ended, AFN had newsmen
at Helmstedt and Berlin to cover the first post-blockage
train to move through East Germany.

The Russian challenge in Berlin changed the thinking
of the Western Powers. From simply an occupying force,
the Western militarv role became one of defense. West
Germany became an ally rather than occupied territory.
NATO was established, and with it the reality that
American forces would remain in Europe.

During the Berlin crisis, AFN displayed a powerful
influence not only on the morale of American troops, but
on the civilian population who listened to the program-
ming. The Berlin station was on the air twenty-four hours
a day, providing both entertainment and a homing signal
for the Air Lift pilots! AFN assured Berliners that the
United States was present in their city, to stay.

Many believe the Berlin Crisis of 194S saved the
Network. While they may be overstating the case, it is
true that the size of the American military had been
decreasing since the end of World War II. The confronta-
tion with the Soviet Union in Berlin led to a new build-up
of the American militarv in Europe. That established a
continuing need for AFN to provide entertainment, news,
information and education. The Communist invasion of

South Korea furthered the build up of American Forces
around the world. That guaranteed the continued need
for AFRS.

AFRS IN KOREA

AFN's contribution during the Berlin Crisis demon-
strated the important role which military radio fills in an
emergency. FEN's response to the attack on South Korea
in June, 1950, once again demonstrated the value of AFRS
in a war setting. WTien North Korea crossed the 38th
parallel, AFRS had only the station in Seoul. The FEN
station at Fukuoka, Japan, beamed programming to
American troops in the southern parts of South Korea.
While the American Armed Forces fought to stem the
invasion and then counter-attacked at Inchon, AFRS
followed the troops.

As it had repeatedly done for a decade, armed forces
broadcasting once again would prove its immeasurable
value. In the crisis setting of the Far East, it would again
provide news, information and entertainment to the
troops and command alike.

But, not without a high price.

NOTES - CHAPTER 16

(1) Interview with Roy Neal, August 3, 1983.

(2) Neal interview.

(3) Ibid.

(4) Ibid.

(5) Ibid

(6) Interview with Harold Burson, March 7, 1984.

(7) Ibid.

(8) Ibid.

(9) Ibid.

(10) Ibid.

(11) Ibid

(12) Quarterly Report, April 1 to 30, 1945, for Armed
Forces Radio Section, Information and Education
Detachment, AFP AC, Jordan Roscoe, A Brief History of
tiw Far East Network, 1961. Cited hereafter as Roscoe.

(13) Roscoe; Interview with Frank Tourtellotte,
September 29, 1981

(14) Roscoe.

(15) Press release, CHQ, U.S. Armv Forces, Pacific,
Sept 14, 1945; N«W York Times, Sept 25, 1945, p 46.

(16) Roscoe.

(17) Ibid.

(18) Ibid.

(19) Ibid.

73

CHAPTER 17

THE FAR EAST NETWORK
EXPANDS

Armed Forces Radio in Korea began after the end of
World War D- when, FEN established station WVTP in
Seoul for the American troops that landed to accept the
Japanese surrender. FEN established other stations in
Pusan, Chonju, and later, Kwangju. Like the stations in
Japan, the Korean outlets operated independently with no
network broadcast connections. When American troops
withdrew from Korea in 1948, Armed Forces Radio also
pulled out Bv the end of the vear, all stations except for
Seoul had signed off the air. On June 30, 1949, FEN
transferred the Seoul station to the Korea Military Advi-
sor)' Group, and WVTP ceased to be considered part of
the Far East Network.

On June 25, 1950, North Korean forces crossed the 38th
Parallel and attacked the South Korean capital. Immedi-
ately, WVTP began broadcasting evacuation instructions
to American personnel. Before the North Korean capture
of the citv, the station moved to Taegu and then, on July
31, farmer south to Pusan. As the Pusan perimeter
shrank, the station went off the air and evacuated to
Japan. FEN continued to broadcast programs during this
period from its Fukuoka transmitter.

To cover the fighting itself, FEN sent a correspondent
to the perimeter armed with a .45 automatic and a tape
recorder. He joined the 24th Infantry Division's 19th
Regiment north of Taejon. When Taejon tell to the North
Koreans, the correspondent retreated to Tokyo, but after a
week returned to the peninsula. There he joined the 1st
Cavalry Division norm of Taegu with whom he remained
until he was wounded and evacuated to Japan. His vivid
memories accented his broadcast reports. One time, he
recalled, "I looked out of the courtyard and saw some
tanks approaching. Jubilantly, I said to a soldier next to
me, 'Here come our tanks!' He stared at me matter-of-
factly. 'We ain't got no tanks/ was the laconic reply. 1
don't think I ever felt so lost!"

Back in Japan at General Headquarters, military
commanders were planning for the Inchon landing. They
decided that a permanent AFRS station should be reestab-
lished in Seoul as soon as they recaptured the citv. The
command issued instructions to the Headquarters, Japan
Logistical Command, to help acquire the needed equip-
ment Major Edgar Tidwell, FEN's executive officer,
immediately began locating the equipment and obtaining

personnel from AFRS stations throughout Japan. Bv
September 20, 1st Lieutenant Albert Jones, Officer in
Charge of the new station, Francis X. Crosby, a civilian
radio engineer, and seven enlisted men were in
Yokohama. So, too, were an undetermined number of
crates of equipment

THE ARMED FORCES KOREAN NETWORK

On September 27, MacArthur's Headquarters issued
General Order #84, which officially created AFKN. The
next day, Crosby flew with Sergeant Allen Larkin and
Corporal Lawrence Butcher into Kimpo Air Held. There,
they'd seek to find a studio and make arrangements for
the arrival of the equipment and staff. The rest of the staff
left Yokohama on Sunday, October 1, flying first to
Ashiya and then to Kimpo, arriving at 10 PM. From there
they made their way into Seoul to the American Embassy,
where Crosby located the original WVTP studio.

Although the retreating North Koreans exploded two
bombs in the basement, the soundproofed studios
survived in good condition. Typical of AFRS broadcast-
ers, the nine men worked for forty-eight hours straight
and got the station back on the air on October 4. Al-
though they'd brought most of the equipment with them,
small items, like screwdrivers, didn't arrive. Larkin
, recalled, "W r e used fingernail files, nail clippers, mess
gear, and everything else imaginable to get things in
operation. We made it, somehow!"

At 7:00 AM Wednesday morning, an American
announced, "Good Morning, mis is Armed Forces Radio
in Seoul, broadcasting on 610-kiIocycles. We now bring
you the news.-"

The station didn't stay on the air long. Crosby'd
strung the antenna up the side of the eight-story Embassy
building and across the street up a smoke stack atop a
building 30-feet away. A Korean cleaning the top floor of
the Embassy building threw some trash out the window,
the antenna came down, and the station went off the air.
Crosby went up the eight flights, fixed the antenna and
the station went back on.

A few minutes later, a chair flew out one of the win-
dows, and down went the antenna once more. Crosby
fixed the antenna again, but when it happened a third
time, he then resorted to more drastic means. He posted
himself on the street with a carbine. A warning shot into
the air finally convinced the Koreans that the area was no.
a public dump, and AFRS Seoul was on the air for
good!(l)

From the beginning, AFRS Seoul broadcast twenty-one
hours a day, three hours longer than the FEN stations.
The extra programming came from a record request show
"Rice Paddy Ranger," which ran from Midnight to 3:00
AM. With its own short-wave receiver, the station pickec

74

up news broadcasts directly from AFRS Los Angeles and
shortwave programs from Japan. Besides the news and
sports, the station received the regular AFRS transcription
package.

For their own music shows, the disc jockeys relied on
the AFRS record library, which contained more than
100,000 musical selections ranging from country to
classical to the top ten. The station also broadcast several
of the popular FEN shows, including "Sports Parade" and
"Four O'Clock Jarnboree "(2)

Lieutenant Albert Jones relied on a staff of eight
enlisted men and Francis Crosby- while Koreans who
worked at WVTP during the occupation years did the
maintenance chores. At first, the troops seemed hesitant
to send in their requests, but within a month of going on
the air, the station's mail had grown considerably, Their
tastes were much the same as radio listeners all over the
world. Popular music held the top spot, country music
second, commercial network variety shows were third
and mystery programs fourth.(3)

With its 250-watt transmitter, AFRS Seoul reached an
audience within a 25-mile radius of the city- Program-
ming for the rest of South Korea came from the FEN
shortwave transmitter in Fukuoka. In the early days of
the war, the network leased a 10,000-watt transmitter from
the Japanese Broadcasting Corporation and beamed
programs to the first American units thrown into battle.
FEN soon moved one of its transmitters from Saga to
Fukuoka and returned the leased transmitter to its
owners. The new one was strong enough to be heard as
far north as Taejort Even the two stations together could
not adequately cover all parts of Korea. More American
and UN forces poured into the country- and the Allies
began moving north. (4)

AFRS UNDER THE BOMBS

Monitoring the course of the fighting from Japan,
Major Tidwefi built a mobile station modeled after those
built during World War U. Roscoe Phillips found an old
ordnance van in which he built a studio, including a BC-
610 radio transmitter. When the technicians completed
the station, dubbed "The Monster," they airlifted it to
Kimpo. From there, they took it to Seoul to replace the
Embassy studios.(5) Once again, AFRS' creativity in
scrounging brought "a little bit of home" to the troops.

The makeshift station had a short stay. After driving
UN forces out of North Korea, the Chinese and North
Koreans moved back across the 38th parallel and toward
the South Korean capital As they entered the city's
northern suburbs, the "Monster" roared out the southern
end after signing off: "We don't know where we'll be
next, and nobody else does either. That's why we're
called the 'Kilroy' station." The mobile station moved

south with the UN forces and settled permanently in
Taegu, where it became known as "Radio Kilroy."

By then, other stations on wheels were working in the
field. AFKN became known as the "Network on Wheels."

As the UN forces began to move North again during
the Spring of 1951, one of the vans advanced with the
troops. Reaching Seoul in May, the staff transferred
operations to a studio it set up in the Bando Hotel The
"permanent" facility- lasted about two hours before
gunfire and bomb forced the station back to its van! While
the station stayed in the Seoul area, its initial experience in
the capital produced its name, "Vagabond."

When the fighting moved beyond Seoul, another unit,
j nicknamed "Troubadour," operated north of the 38th
parallel with the X Corps. In the Kumwha sector, AFKN
established Radio "Gypsy," a most fitting name with the
station continuously on the move. In June, 1951, it was at
Chunchon; four months later, at Hwachan.

in the South, "Homesteader" began operations at
! Pusan on August 25 and became the only station to
acquire a permanent home during the war.

Movement became the byword for the "Network on
Wheels." Each of the mobile units had a 250-watt trans-
mitter, a studio, program materials, AFRS transcriptions
and the ability to put on occasional live shows. As the
1 intensity of the war increased, AFKN placed more stations
in the field. By November, 1952, "Rambler" was in the
Chunchon area, "Nomad" was with I Corps and "Mer-
cury" was on the Air Force base at Kunsan. All of them
were pro\iding the UN forces with entertainment, news
and information.

Besides providing the regular programming, the
stations also raised thousands of dollars for various
charities. The "Vagabond" 24-hour drive for crippled
Korean children, in September, 1952, was tj-pical of the
fund-raising marathons the local stations originated.

Contributions came from bunkers, tents and barracks.
A group of Marines paid $400 to hear the "Marine
Hymn," another S100 to keep the "Artillery Song" off the
air. In turn, the artillery men quickly pledged S155 for
their song. The Armv then paid to have "Anything You
Can Do, I Can Do Better," "Baby Face," and "Too Young"
dedicated to the Marines. The Leathernecks finally
dedicated "I Surrender, Dear" to the Army, ending the
rivalry.

The fund-raiser closed with "I'll be Glad When You're
Dead, You Rascal You," which the station dedicated to the
Communist General Nam II.

5uch shows generated that famous doughboy humor
that has always existed side by side with the grim realities
of combat. Yet, the AFKN outlets never lost sight of their
wartime mission. One of me troops' favorite programs
was "Mail From Home," which featured songs dedicated

75

to individual soldiers.

The sounds of combat at times intruded upon the live
shows that the stations originated. A Christmas program,
which "Radio Vagabond" recorded in December, 1952,
featured the Wolfhound Regimental Choir and three
chaplains addressing their congregations. Describing the
recording session, the station's program director recalled,
"We could hear the artillery in the background. I'll bet it's
the only recording on earth of a chaplain wishing his men
'Peace on Earth' followed by a 60mm shell blast!"

AFKN covered the war itself with "News Front, Far
East," in a joint venture with FEN. Reporters with
portable tape recorders went wherever the fighting took
place. They'd cover all phases of the conflict - a mUe
behind enemy lines on a combat patrol and over enemy
targets in Air Force planes. They even covered such major
operations as "Trojan Horse," which pushed thousands of
Communist troops out of position during the winter of
1951-52. Coverage also included VIP visits, the armistice
talks, prisoner exchanges, and finally, the truce agreement
itself.

FIRST STATION ON A MARINE BASE

As time passed, the network continued to grow. Tney
added "Radio Meteor" in 1953, the first station to be
located on a Marine base in Korea. It served the First
Marine Air Wing at Pohang. "Meteor" was the ninth
station in the network, of which seven operated from
mobile units and two broadcast from permanent facilities.
Given the multinational nature of the United Nations
Command, the AFKN stations had a varied audience.
They tried to provide service to all. Newscasts and disc
jockey shows were broadcast in French, Dutch, Korean,
Flemish, Turkish, Greek, two dialects of Spanish. There
were actually two versions of English. One was for the
.Americans and one for the Commonwealth troops of
Great Britain, Canada, New Zealand and Australia.

Following the Armistice on July 27, 1953, AFKN went
through a period of transition from the "Network on
Wheels" to permanently established stations. In April,
1954, "Vagabond" opened permanent studios on Vaga-
bond Hill in Seoul. "Radio Comet" went on the air in
July, 1954, with studios at Osan Air Force Base. AFKN
inactivated "Meteor," "Nomad," "Rambler" and "Trouba-
dour." "Radio Gypsy" moved to Camp St. Barbara in
Kuma-ri.

FEN worked closely with AFKN, providing logistical
support, equipment and programming. All newscasts
came from FEN, Tokyo to each AFKN station via short-
wave. In 1956, FEN Headquarters established the first
teletype service to AFKN, Seoul. Using the combined
resources of commercial wire services and its own
newscenter, AFKN began to originate all of its own news

programming from Seoul.

AFKN began from scratch in October, 1950, under the
worst of wartime conditions. By 195", AFKN had become
an independent network providing complete program-
ming service to all American Armed Forces stationed in
South Korea. Not bad!

FAR EAST NETWORK EXPANDS
AND REORGANIZES

Meanwhile, FEN continued to evolve into a network
operation in name and practice. After the closing of AFRS
Saipan on April 1, 1950, FEN consisted of nine stations
and five relay transmitters. Most of the stations were on
the air eighteen hours a day, seven days a week Of the
3,267 hours of programs broadcast each week, almost fifty
percent came from tine FEN production department or
from the individual local station staffs. The other half
originated from the weekly AFRS transcription package
from AFRS, Los Angeles.

During 1952, the locally-produced prograrnrning
ranged over a wide spectrum.(6) From Kyush, Army
Corporal Fred "Fearless" Forgette aired everything from
traffic safety to blood bank contributions with wit,
personality and originality. From Osaka, Army Sergeant
Tod "Cowboy" Gems put "Sagebrush Symphony" on the
air. He enticed even hillbilly haters to his program. From
Sendai, Army Master Sergeant Johnny Baker broadcast
"Stories of Japan" for some six years. He became as much
a part of the serviceman's experience in Japan as the hot
baths and Mt. Fuji.

The core of FEN programming came out of the Head-
quarters in Tokyo. One of the most popular programs
began in August, 1952. Co-hosted bv former U.S. Navy
language instructor John Sato and his friend, Army
Corporal Dan Levy, the five-minute program soon had
listeners greeting each other in Japanese, During this
same period, Navy Journalist Ben Oldag, possibly the
most versatile voice ever to broadcast over FEN, showed
that the right person could do country or long-hair
classical music. He could even introduce church services,
all with appropriate style and equal aplomb.

Entertainment aside, FEN probably offered its greatest
appeal and served its mission best through its news
department. The weekly, thirty-minute documentary
"News From Far East" covered significant events with
on-the-spot reporting.

The Network underwent an administrative reorganiza-
tion in 1951 when Major Edgar Tidwell replaced Major
Jean Wood as Theater Radio Officer. On September \,
1951, as a result of G.0. 58, Headquarters and Service
Command, Far East Command, they discontinued the six
separate AFRS Army units in japan. They also abolished
the position of Theater Radio Officer. Major Tidwell

76

became the Chief of the 8213th A.U. Far East Network
Japan, which organized all radio operations under its
command.

AFKN became the 8212th A.U. and FEN Okinawa
became the 3104th A.U. The Information Officer of the
GHQ FEC staff supervised all three of these Army units.

Under this arrangement. FEN received supply support
from the depot at Camp Zama, Japan, with engineering
and production support coming directly from FEN
headquarters in Tokyo.

With the new organization in place. FEN began a
period of stability. It settled into its task of providing
service to American Forces who were now "guests" in a
free and no longer occupied Japan. Meanwhile, it lent
support to other AFRS operations in Korea, Okinawa, and
the Philippines. During 1952, FEN opened two new
stations. One started in August at Miho on the southwest
coast of Honshu. A second started in October on the U.S.
Marine Corps Air Facility at Iwakuni, 20 miles from
Hiroshima. These new stations brought the number of
FEN outlets to eight. Also during the year, FEC extended
landlines from Tokyo through Nagoya and Iwakuni, to
the Kyushu complex and also north to Sendai, turning
FEN into a real radio network.

The change in the status of .American Forces in Japan
from an occupying Army to "guest" status had a pro-
found impact on FEN. Until 1953, the network had used
transmitter and studio facilities leased from Japanese
radio. Under the new politics, this no longer remained
feasible, so FEN constructed studio facilities for all its
stations on militan* bases. By September 1953, FEN
housed all outlets in their-own buildings. This required
some changes in station locations and the addition of relay
transmitters in some areas.

The Kyushu station moved to Itazuke Air Base near
Fukuoka. The Osaka-Nagoya station moved to the
Magoya-Jo housing area, and Sendai to the Camp Sendai
housing area. FEN Tokyo moved to new studio buildings
at South Camp Drake, with the transmitter built at
Momoto Village housing area. In the summer of 1954,

FEN opened a station at Niigata, although its operation
didn't receive final authorization until the next year.
With Niigata on the air, FEN now had nineteen

outlets - nine stations and ten relay transmitters. FEN
Iwo Jima closed in April, 1953, but FEN Okinawa contin-
ued operations, giving the network a total of twenty
outlets, the largest at anv time during FEN's history. One
station reopened on Iwo Jima in 1954, but without official
sanction.

The latter 1950s witnessed a decline in the number of
outlets as the United States military consolidated and
phased out its facilities.

FEN, like AFKN. continued the stalwart tradition of
providing entertainment, information and news to the
American defense personnel wherever they found
themselves stationed in the Far East

Soon, they'd add pictures to the sound.

NOTES - CHAPTER 17

(1) Pacific Stars and Stripes, Oct. IS. 1950, page 2;
Interview with Edgar Tidwell, May 26, 1983; undated
AFKN histories, 1950s and 1960s. Both Stars and

Stripes and the network histories contain significant, overt
errors on dates, times and sequence of events. For example.
Stars and Stripes gives the time oftlie first broadcast at
7:00 AM, while several oftlie histories give it as 12:41. One
even says the 4th was a Sunday. The chronology uses Stars
and Stripes as tlte primam source, given tlie closeness of the
story to tlie events recounted.

(2) Sergeant First Class, Doug Dubois, "Radio at War,"
Stars and Stripes, Nov. 18, 1950, p 7.

(3) Ibid.

(4) Ibid.

(5) Tidwell interview; AFKN histories.

(6) The material for the following section comes primarily
from Roscoe's "Brief History of the Far East Network."

11

CHAPTER 18

AIR FORCE BEGINS
TELEVISION OPERATIONS

The Korean Conflict and the Cold Wax of the 1950s
insured that Armed Forces Radio would continue as a
viable organization. During this period, AFRS faced the
same challenge to its operations and programming as did
commercial radio throughout the United States. By the
end of the Korean Conflict, television brought about the
end of network radio's monopoly on entertainment
ptogramming. Local radio stations had to restructure
their broadcast day- In most instances, this meant a move
to an all-music format of either popular, jazz, big band,
country and western, classic, or some combination format.

At AFRS Headquarters, the programming staff faced
the same challenge in replacing network entertainment
programming in the transcription package it distributed.
The need to fill the weekly entertainment package became
a continuing concern. The .AFRS solutions resembled
those developed by commercial outlets, including in-
creased disc jockey shows, added special informational
features, and more sports from the commercial network
radio operations.

AFRS took two directions in providing music shows
sent out in the transcription package: First, thev recorded
local disc jockey programs, usually from the Los Angeles
area. Information spots replaced commercials on these
programs, sent out on disks. Second, AFRS increased the
number of in-house produced radio shows, usually
hosted by other disc jockeys under contract with AFR5.
The latter shows had the advantages of being directed
specifically to the military audience. They did not require
the decommercializing step. Finally, AFRS increased the
size of the local music libraries so that outlets had access
to a sufficient number of records to support their locally
produced disc jockey shows.

THE AIR FORCE PIONEERS

Despite the mission of bringing to the troops "a little bit
of home," AFRS headquarters did not respond to the
sudden explosion of television. No initiatives were made
at AFRS to provide TV to American Forces overseas.
Television would start as a solution for a morale problem
in the Strategic Air Command.

In early 1947, General Curtis LeMay received a recom-
mendation from his own staff that his commands build
small television stations to boost morale at isolated SAC

bases. As television grew, LeMay explored the subject
with his friend Arthur Godfrey. The famous personality
was a car racing and hunting companion. He agreed that
an economical, small television station could be developed
for use in remote areas. Planners also saw the usefulness
of television in providing information and education.
Since television was just getting off the ground commer-
■ dally, the Air Force confined its interest to memos, which
anticipated future use.(l)

Meanwhile, the advent of the Cold War brought about
vast changes within the military . From the initial head-
long demobilization at the dose of World War II, the
United States began to rearm in response to Soviet actions
in Central Europe. The Army, Navy and the new,
separate Air Force started to deploy forces in almost as
many remote overseas locations as during the war.

The new peacetime conditions would inevitably
require a military television network, just as the need
during the WWTJ led to the development of Armed Forces
Radio. One significant difference existed. With no war,
servicemen found less urgency in their work. The absence
of combat increased interest in off-duty activities and a
desire for the same things troops had back in the United
States. The narrow range of entertainment options at
most overseas Armed Forces bases created boredom and
prompted the military to provide significant recreational
activities.

The need for these activities received an additional
emphasis. In an era of rapid technological advances, the
Services were embarking upon a program to retain
trained men and women for careers in the military. With
the increase in military careers came an increase in the
number of military families on military bases both in the
United States and abroad. Wherever they found them-
selves, these military families as well as and the unmar-
ried serviceman or woman, came to expect normal
American entertainment. More and more, that meant
commercial television.

By the end of the Korean Conflict, TV had ceased to be
a novelty in the United States. Most people considered TV
a normal household appliance. To deprive service men
and women of such an accustomed source of entertain-
ment would affect morale, enlistments and retention of
trained personnel. This problem particularly affected the
Strategic Air Command. It had both a large number of
remote facilities and a specific need for highly skilled
personnel to maintain its sophisticated equipment Asa
result, Curtis LeMay redoubled his efforts to provide
television to his men. By early 1953, the Air Force was
developing plans to put a low-power television prototype
station on the air.

SAC ultimately considered two possible locations for
the prototype station, Rapid City Air Force Base in South

78

Dakota and Limestone Air Force Base in northern Maine.
Limestone was far from any commercial television station
signal. Therefore, an Air Force TV station not be a

competition for sendee. Also, there were no with which it
might compete. No immediate plans existed for a civilian
station in the area, which might force an early termination
of the experiment SAC did, however, have to obtain FCC
approval of the project. To do so, SAC had to agree that if
a commercial station began in the area, the military TV
station would go off the air. It also promised that the
television transmitter would be limited to ten watte of
power.

The location permitted easy access for technicians and
the deliver}' of parts that a prototype station would
require if problems developed during the shakedown
period. The continental U.S. site also eased observation of
the broadcast activities and evaluation of it's operation.
Finally, the station provided an indirect benefit by giving
the Air Force the opportunity to provide a service to the
local population.

For LeMay's purposes, Limestone provided a good
case study for dealing with many of the problems facing
SAC. The base had an inordinately large military popula-
tion compared to the number of civilians in the region.
Limestone AFB had a population of 15,000 servicemen
and their dependents. In contrast, the town of Limestone
had a population of 864, while Caribou, ten miles away,
had 4300. Aroostock Count}*, while large area-wise, had
only 96,000. More important, the region around Lime-
stone lacked a variety of recreational facilities for base
personnel. In addition the local population was not on
particularly good terms with the airbase. The rigorous
winters, unpleasant for both the military personnel and
their dependents, didn't help. And, the atmospheric and
mineral nature of the area made radio reception poor.
These local problems, when combined with SAC's
operational requirements, created morale problems for
dependents. The results were a high rate of AWOL and
divorce.

Once the Air Force selected Limestone, it moved ahead
rapidly to get the station on the air before Christmas. To
do so, it had to solve two problems. First, acquire and set
up the television equipment. Second, find and arrange for
deliver}' of program material.

SAC gave the job of acquiring equipment to its Com-
munications and Electronics Division. Lieutenant Colonel
P.L Moen, the Deputy Chief of the division, became the
SAC Technical Project Officer. Moen made several
unproductive inquiries to manufacturers. Then, with the
help of General LeMay, he contacted David Sarnoff,
President of RCA. After Moen informed him of the
problem, Samoff referred him to the companv's Camden,
New Jersey plant for assistance.

On August 13, two RCA representatives did an on-the-
spot survey of the Limestone facilities. They would

determine the precise location for the studio and the type

of equipment that they would need. The planners
determined that space on top of the hospital offered the
best location for the station and antenna.

With the site selection completed, the RCA representa-
tives returned to Camden with the mission of drawing up
television studio plans. The plans considered the limita-
tions of space and money, but provided for the greatest
versatility for immediate use and future expansion. To
fulfill these goals, RCA produced three plans, one costing
SI 8,000, one 524,000, and one S26.000. None provided for
"live" in-house production of programs. SAC decided to
purchase the S28,000 package with modifications that
provided for "live" telecasting and for ancillary equip-
ment for a greater scope of production activity. Financing
for the studio came from SAC's Welfare Funds. The setup
included a videcon camera chain, a 16mm projector,
monitoring equipment, synchronizing generator, other
necessary electronic equipment and an eight-watt trans-
mitter. The studio received a turntable and an RCA tape
recorder to play fill music.

While SAC and RCA were solving the equipment
problems, the Air Force began efforts to provide program-
ming. Despite the obvious expertise of AFRS in obtaining
program material, SAC didn't approach the Los Angeles
headquarters for help. Thev chose instead to go directly
to the major networks in New York. The Chief, Procure-
ment and Projects Branch, Personnel Services Division,
SAC assumed the job of procurement. He arranged a
meeting with representatives from the major television
networks. The meeting produced an agreement that the
Procurement and Projects Branch would obtain clearances
for network productions. To do this, the staff would
contact sponsors, agencies, networks and other parties to
acquire rights to use the shows. The office also would
handle any union clearances that might be necessary. The
Army and Air Force Motion Picture Service would act as
courier for receiving and shipping of films from New
York to Limestone.

To provide an official sanction for the budding new
medium, the Department of Defense issued a memoran-
dum on October 28, 1953. Signed by Dr. John Hannah,
Assistant Secretary of Defense for Manpower and Person-
nel, it formally established an Armed Forces television
activity, It stated that the Office of Armed Forces Informa-
tion and Education had the responsibility for plans and
policy for radio, motion pictures and publications.

"Television potentially provides an additional medium
of communication capable of exerting a strong, favorable
influence on the information and education program of
the Armed Forces," the DoD memorandum said.

79

"It will be appreciated if the Secretaries of the Army.
Navy and Air Force will coordinate all tele\ision use
with the Office of Armed Forces Information and
Education," it continued. "OAFIE is responsible for the
development and supervision of Armed Forces informa-
tion and education tele\TSion plans and policy."

In turn, OAFIE issued DoD Directive 5000.4, which set
forth the objectives of Armed Forces Television. It called
for a "balanced fare of information and education
programs" to be furnished to all Armed Forces Radio
and Television stations. The programs were to be written
or chosen, produced and distributed "based on the
accomplishment of the information and education
objective. That is, to foster in the sen-iceman attitudes
conducive to military efficiency, the mission of the
Armed Forces, American democratic principles and an
increasing knowledge of national and international
affairs."

Clearances for the use of the various shows started to
arrive in October and November as work progressed on
the 10-foot by 13-foot studio. The station would go on
the air Christmas Day. The base Information Senices
Officer knew one man who had some radio announcing
experience and a working knowledge of radio station
procedures. As a result, he became program director
with the ISO acting initially as station manager. The
maintenance and engineering personnel came under the
supervision of an officer who'd volunteered his services
after his regular duty hours. The station received four
men assigned on a permanent basis, two from the
Armament and Electronics Squadron and two from the
Communications Section. None of the men had televi-
sion experience, but the maintenance officer had signifi-
cant experience in radio. One of the enlisted men worked
at one time with the AFRS. The other three men were
radio, radar and communications equipment mechanics.

The equipment, minus the transmitter, antenna and
turntable arrived on December 21. The transmitter
reached Limestone and the 23rd and the staff began to set
up the equipment That evening, an engineer from RCA
arrived to help check out the system. Everyone worked
until four O'clock the next afternoon. Although not in
perfect order and lacking an antenna, the station went on
the air on the target date. The staff used a makeshift set-
up mat transmitted a good picture but somewhat inferior
audio signal It was not until February 10, 1954, that they
finallv installed the proper antenna.

Although the film for the first day's broadcasting
didn't arrive until December 24, the Christmas day
inaugural of military broadcasting went off with few
difficulties. Programming began with the sign-on and
test partem at 5:45 PM. News aired at 6:00. "Littlest
Angel" followed, then "Rootie Kazootie," "Child of

Bethlehem," "Guiding Star," "You Can Change the
World," "Jamie," 'VS. Steel Hour," and "Comeback
Story." News at 8:00 PM closed the broadcast day.
Because of the lack of programming, the station initially
broadcast only on Friday, Saturday and Sunday with the
four-hour evening schedule. As the weeks passed, the
schedule expanded as the commercial networks began to
supply more and more material. The station supple-
mented that with films from the Air Force Film Library
and from the Allied Artists and Republic Pictures motion
picture companies.

Soon, the station was able to schedule between thirty-
three and forty hours a week of filmed shows that it
supplemented with three "live" shows. The "Chaplain
Hour" was a fifteen-minute talk (' flour" sounded better
than "quarter-hour") delivered every Sunday by dne of
the base Chaplains or a visiting clergyman, the second
was a weekly news summary, prepared and presented by
an officer from Wing intelligence. The third, "LAFB
Personalities," attempted to present interesting people
from the base who were entertaining and had something
of interest to offer. These included a hypnotist, a fire-eater
and an airman who did three dimensional paintings. By
the end of January, the station was also doing three live
news shows a day.

Despite the limited transmition equipment and the
bare-bones nature of the studio, the Limestone station
remained on the air with only a one-and-a-half hour
interruptioa That was to fix the synchronizing generator.
On February 10, operations stopped for one day to install
the new antenna. After the installation, the airmen
assigned to the station did all the maintenance and
engineering. Given the conditions under which they had
to work and their initial lack of experience in tele\ision,
their "ingenuity and resourcefulness was amazing to the
point of unbelief."(2) Again, such is the legacy of armed
forces broadcasting.

Shortly after the station went on the air, Limestone Air
Force Base had its name changed to Loring and SAC
began to assign additional personnel to the television
operation. John Bradley, a Sergeant who'd been doing
public relations work for General LeMay, arrived at the
station soon after it went on the air. He recalled that
Maine "is not really one of the great places in the world to
be stationed." That was particularly true in the winter
and even more so for the television staff. The studio atop
the hospital at Loring it was inside a structure built of
metal I-beams and enclosed with corrugated metal. It
housed mainly elevator equipment and had no insulation
orheating.(3)

In the summer, the men had to work half-naked
because of the temperatures. Winter was worse, and it
"presented some really interesting problems. We always

I

had to operate with parkas and frequently with gloves on,
which we removed solely for adjusting and changing
film."

The men soon found a more mundane problem. The
television equipment was initially on the same electrical
line as the hospital elevator. Ever}' time someone used the
lift, it caused a drop in power creating problems with the
broadcast signal. The staff solved this by hooking up to a
separate power source.{4)

Despite working without any backup equipment in
case of breakdowns, the station at Loring accomplished
everything which General LeMay had hoped. Major Peter
Bekker wrote A Report on the Morale Effectiveness of
AFL-TV, in January, 1956. It summarized the changes that
had occurred during the first two years the station was on
the air. In early 1954, shortly after the broadcast operation
began, the AWOL rate at Loring was 20 per 1,000 men. Bv
the beginning of 1955, the rate had fallen to 2-5 per 1,000. '
From January to June, 1955, the period that normally had
the highest AWOL rate, the base maintained a rate of 2
men per 1,000. In early 1954, the base had a rate of 22
summary courts per month. By the end of the year, the)'
conducted 4 or 5 per month and during 1955, the rate
dropped to 1 or 2 per month. For SAC, the important
figures had to do with reenlistments. From no reenlist-
ments at all in tl ie early months of 1954. the number rose
to 12 by the end of the year. By March, 1955, the rate had
risen to 18 per month.(5)

Major Bekker s Rfpori continued, "In the field of
human reaction, we can build an even more solid case for
AFL-TV. Fan letters for our various live shows average
sixty a week. This figure jumps considerably for special
presentations. The United Fund drive used APL-TV quite
effectively last year and it will use it again this year to
encourage donations." In addition, the Dependents
Assistance Program, which Bekker called "a must on
every SAC installation," rose to ninety-percent participa-
tion, "solely through the television programming informa-
tion. At this point, Loring has one of the most effective
dependent's assistance programs in SAC." While ac-
knowledging that the letters may not prove conclusive in
themselves, Bekker believed that they provided "one of
the truest guides. They demonstrate sincere appreciation
for the efforts of the station. "(6)

Although SAC had initiated the move to television,
other commands in the Air Force observed the significant
impact of TV. They initiated efforts to bring television
overseas. The Commander of the Military Air Transport
Service (MATS) took action early in 1954 to install TV
stations in all isolated bases under MATS operational
control. After surveying locations, MATS obtained
approval from the television networks to extend the
original Limestone agreements. They negotiated with the

Portuguese Government and received permission to
install a station in the Azores. Station CSL-TV began at
Lajes Field, in the Azores, on October 17, 1951. The next

station to go on the air was AJG-TV at Wheelus Field,
Tripoli, on December 22, 1954.

In the meantime, the Department of Defense estab-
lished the Television Section of the Information Branch,
Office of Armed Forces Information and Education in
February, 1954.

AFRTS ESTABLISHED

OAF1E issued a letter on April 21, 1954, which changed
the name of AFRS to Armed Forces Radio and Television
Service (AFRTS). On September 14, the Television Section
became the Television Branch, Information Division. On
October 29, the Office issued DoD Instruction 5120.2. It
was to govern all Armed Forces television operations.

As set forth in this original Instruction, the mission of
Armed Forces Television Service was much like radio. It
was "to provide United States Armed Forces personnel
overseas, and in isolated areas where commercial pro-
grams are not available, television programs for informa-
tion, education and entertainment."

AFRTS assumed the responsibilitv for providing
programming to the growing number of stations, but
battles still had to be fought. The initial shows which
Limestone received had advertising included. They made
no effort to decommercialize them. This practice contin-
ued during the early months of the station's operations,
despite AFRTS' objections as soon as it became involved.
On September 23, 1954, Commander E. F. Hutchins, USN.
then OIC in the AFRTS Headquarters, sent a memoran-
dum to Genera] Harland Hartness, the Director of OAFIE.
He responded to Hartness's statement that the policy of
not decommercializing television programs "would be
inescapable." The networks had been insisting on
keeping advertisements in the shows they were furnish-
: ing. Hutchins noted, "If we are to accept this as a firm
| basis for our expansion into television, I'm afraid well, of
necessity, find ourselves forced into an indefensible
position. In other words, what is the difference between
Jack Benny on AM or TV? Why is it acceptable to hear
and see the Lucky Strike Commercial on an Armed Forces
Television Station, but not on its radio counterpart?"

Decommercializing the television programs would
have to be done for the same reasons that the AFRS
shipped programs during the war without advertise-
ments. All concerned parties agreed, AFRTS developed
the techniques needed to edit out advertisements. What
AFRTS didn't do was enter into the production of its own
entertainment television programs. The cost would have
been prohibitive.

The mission of AFRTS remained the same as that of

81

AFRS, to provide the same programming the service men
and women in the held had watched back home. That is,
"a little bit of home."

As a result, the television side of the AFRTS operations
in Los Angeles always remained a distribution activity
rather than a creative production center. The creativity
that did develop within the organization did so at the
local level where the staffs did news and special live
programs. Limits imposed by budgets, equipment and
available staff generally precluded the production of
major programs.

However, since the arrival of live satellite delivered
programming a new form of creativity has developed at
the AFRTS Broadcast Center. The acquisition and sched-
uling of live TV programming will form the care of future
prograrnming to satisfy the needs of America's service
men and women. Television in the '80s has made the
operation in Los Angeles at true broadcast facility.

The success with which AFRTS has fulfilled its televi-
sion mission has continued to this day. It's all a tradition

begun in primitive facilities by a small group of airmen at
Limestone Air Force Base in 1953.

"...By airmen, for airmen." And, the story continues.

NOTES - CHAPTER IS

(1) Interview with John Bradley. March 18, 19S4. Also,
Major James J. Weldon, Information Senices Officer,
Headquarters 42nd Air Base Group. OIC. "AiVT.V.
Station. Limestone AFB, Maine - Final Report", [n.d.
1956], Cited hereafter as Weldon. Also, Lieutenant
Colonel M. Williamson, November 3, 1955.

(2) Weldon.

(3) Bradlev interview, March 28, 1984.

(4) Ibid.

(5) Ibid.

8?

CHAPTER 19

ARMED FORCES RADIO BEGINS
TELEVISION SERVICE

MATS put a station on the air at Keflavik, Iceland, on
March 1, 1955. It put another on-the-air at Kindley AFB,
Bermuda, four months later. In doing so, it became the
first Air Force command to bring television to all its
remote bases. Television continued to expand. The U. S.
Air Force added a station at Dhahran in Saudia Arabia.
(The latter was very important during the Persian Gulf
War of 1991.) In July, the Air Force organized the first
and only Radio and Television Squadron in the Armed
Forces at Headquarters USAFE, Wiesbaden, Germany,.
The 7122nd Support Squadron (AFRS-TV) initially
supervised five radio stations and the TV stations at
Wheeler Field and Dhahran. It planned to expand the
television operation to eleven bases.

While the Squadron had supervisory control over the
stations, a true network never evolved. Each outlet
operated independently. The Squadron's stations in
Gemany at Ramstein, Spangdahlem, Bitburg and at
Lands tuhl did not compete with AFN. Because AFN
made no effort to add television to its operation until the
mid-1970s. The Squadron's primary job was supplying
each outlet with kinescopes of the top entertainment
shows. The commercial networks supplied programming
to the Air Force free of charge. Resource limitations at
each station allowed only news, weather, sports, personal-
ity interviews and the chaplain's half-hour on Sunday to
be locally produced.

From the beginning, the Air Force in Europe faced a
problem in selecting and training personnel to man the
television stations. The Air Force had no Specialty Code
(job description) for television personnel. So, the Squad-
ron recruited radar and radio specialists to man it's
operations. On occasion, they'd find personnel who had
civilian television experience from bases throughout
USAFE. With the help of the Video Production Squadron,
the 7122nd established a training program at Wheelus
Field. There, technicians became certified as qualified in
TV maintenance or production.

To provide guidance for it's TV operations, the Office
of Armed Forces Information and Education published a
set of procedures for establishing or shutting down
television outlets. The size of the potential audience was
not to determine whether a base should have a station.
Instead, a commander had to justify the need for a station

in his area. According to DoD Instruction 5120.2, an outlet
could be established "in commands where English
language television facilities are nonexistent or are
inadequate,"

The local commander had to estimate the number of
personnel that'd benefit from the facility. He'd also assign
the local unit that would exercise control. He'd determine
its physical location, personnel requirements and budget-
ary support. The request also had to show the availability
of a television frequency in the area and the status of
negotiations for its use with the host government. The
proposed outlet was not to interfere with domestic or
foreign stations and was not to restrict or preclude use of
any frequency by a licensed station. Finally, the station
was not to compete for U.S. military listeners in the area.
Some of these restrictions still hold true today.

Television finally came to network level operations
when AFKN began to broadcast filmed shows in Seoul on
September 15, 1957. Live programming began on January
4, 1959. The first outlet opened on March 1 at Camp
Kaiser and had only a film broadcast capacity. So did
later ones at Kunsan Air Base, which began operation in
July, 1963, and at Taegu, which went on the air that
Christmas.

In 1964, the Seoul station consolidated its broadcast
operations. It moved its TV transmitter from Namsan Hill
to Hill 343 in the Yongsan Compound. Then it combined
radio and television facilities in the one location- During
the year, AFKN-TV improved its picture quality by
replacing its old cameras with modern Image-Orthicon
cameras and improving the studio lighting system.
AFKN also began plans to link all the outlet television
stations with the network headquarters by microwave.

By the end of '65, Seoul could originate all program-
ming in a true network style. Through a complex of
microwave relays and strategically-placed repeater
transmitters, they reached as far south as Taegu. The next
year, they completed the link to Pusan. For coverage
outside the studios, AFKN built a mobile van. They used
it to broadcast such events as Bob Hope's Christmas show,
sports events, military ceremonies, USO shows and chapel
services. This provided AFKN with more of a "feel" of
commercial radio and television. In addition, AFKN-TV
became the first affiliate of AFRTS to receive a video tape
recorder for studio operation.

During the year, the network put the van to good use,
covering a meeting of the Military Armistice Commission
at Panmunjom. Through a window, an AFKN camera
recorded an angry exchange between the two sides while
Communist guards looked on Then, in October, the
network geared up to cover President Johnson's visit to
Korea. AFKN Radio and TV covered President and Mrs.
Johnson at virtually every location of their visit by staying

i

on the air 34 of the 44 hours of their stay. Such efforts
brought American Heritage Foundation awards to Radio
Vagabond. It won as the Best Military Radio Station In
The World For 1966. AFKN-TV won'as the Best Military
Television Station For 1967.

The next year saw further improvement in AFKN's
news coverage capability with the inception in January of
the AFRTS voice circuit connecting Seoul to Washington.
This allowed instantaneous coverage of news and sports.
Within two hours of going on-line, the Armed Forces in
Korea were able to hear President Johnson's 1967 State Of
The Union Address. The network also covered Vice
President Humphrey's visit to the inauguration of Korean
President Park Chung Hee later in the vear.

POOL COVERAGE OF THE
PUEBLO INCIDENT

The network gave full coverage to the North Korean
capture of the USS Pueblo. The network began to report
on the story from the moment the North Koreans seized
the surveillance ship off the coast on January 23, 1968. It
ran for almost a year.

From the beginning of negotiations for the release of
the ship's crew, AFKN assumed a key role in reporting
the story. Panmunjom's relative isolation, its position
within the Demilitarized Zone and its controlled access
routes dictated that AFKN provide the radio and televi-
sion pool coverage for Western networks.

The network began to work directly with the 8th Army
Public Affairs Office in planning media coverage of the
crew release whenever it occurred. They made arrange-
ments for broadcast circuits from key locations in Korea.
They prepared for live radio transmissions back to
Washington. A special plane would fly videotapes of the
release to Japan. There they would transmit them via
satellite to the United States and the rest of the world.
AFKN also secured permission to broadcast all proceed-
ings live on radio. They pre-planned to duplicate the
videotape so that AFKN viewers throughout the Korean
pennisula could see the event within two to four hours of
its occurrence.

In the fall, they rebuilt the mobile TV van and installed
new equipment to broadcast the release of the Pueblo crew
whenever it occurred. They also would use it to cover Bob
Hope's Christmas Show. During the several months of
delicate negotiations, military authorities did not permit
any test runs nor even a check of broadcast lines to the
northern areas. They feared that rumors could start and
spread.

The network broadcast the Bob Hope Special live on
both radio and television. However, another broadcast
would overshadow the two-and-a-half-hour show just
two days later.

On Saturday morning, December 21, the network
received word that the possibility of a release seemed real.
That night the PAO passed official word that the release
would take place on Monday. The next morning, Lieuten-
ant Colonel Frank Tennant, jr., AFKN's Commander since
August, called together the 50 staffers who were to be
involved with the radio and television coverage. After
going over the changes in ground rules, they made final
revisions in the plans. They reviewed the timetable and
confirmed assignments. They loaded the TV van, the
radio van, the lighting truck and a special bus. Then,
shortly after noon, twenty-seven AFKN men headed
north over roads made icy by a two-inch snowfall. After
arriving at Panmunjom early in the evening, they set up
the equipment By daylight, everything was in place.

AFKN Radio began its five-and-a-half hour broadcast
at 9:00 AM with the signing of the formal document - the
so-called "apology." It continued it's coverage while the
i North Koreans delayed the actual release from 11:00 am to
11:30. It broadcast the press conference of Major General
Gilbert Woodward, the chief negotiator. There, he
explained the contents of the document and a second one
in which the United States promptly repudiated the
"apology."

Up to the actual release, the television crews taped
background shots and prepared for the arrival of the
Pueblo's crew at the Bridge of No Return. Both radio and
television reported the exchange live as the eighty-two
men left captivity. AFKN followed with coverage of the
crew's first hours of freedom It also broadcast the press
conference at which the ship's Captain, Commander
1 Lloyd Bucher, described the ordeal that he and his men
had endured.

The network wrapped up the five-hours of coverage
with a summary of the day's events. A jet flew to Japan
with the videotapes for broadcast to the world. Mean-
while, the staff helicoptered the backup videotapes and
film to Seoul. There, they edited them The story broad-
cast that evening on the late news. AFKN concluded its
coverage with the departure of the crew the next day from
Kimpo Air Base.(l)

The planning and preparations paid off! The network
covered every scheduled event with no misses, break-
downs or glitches. The success with which AFKN
handled the Pueblo story made their radio and television
operations a proud model for all of AFRTS!

Upkeep of AFKN physical facilities was difficult. In the
late 1970s, President Carter proposed withdrawing all
American Forces from South Korea. That drastically
reduced AFKN's budget. Even basic repairs couldn't be
made. Only after President Reagan's decision to keep
United States troops in Korea was the network able to
replace worn out equipment and modernize its facilities.

FEN IN TRANSITION

Despite receiving less support than other AFRTS

networks, AFKN did have the advantage of providing
service to a compact geographical area. The Far East
Network was not so lucky. In November. 1953, it moved
from Tokyo to new headquarters at South Camp Drake.
Yet, FEN had to maintain and supervise outlets as far
away as Guam and Taiwan. Over the years, the FEN staff
seemed to be dealing more with changes in administration
than with operations. These included of internal reorgani-
zations, changes in jurisdictional control, and the opening
or closing of various stations. Nonetheless, thev covered
such major stories as presidential visits, attempted coups
and military exercises.

The Far East Network reached its peak of 20 outlets in
1954. In December, FEN Clark in the Philippines became
the second network station to maintain a 24-hour AM
radio operation. It followed the lead of the headquarters
station, which began 'round-the-clock broadcasting
shortly after the move to Camp Drake. The next Novem-
ber, Clark became the first FEN outlet to add television
broadcasts. The Okinawa station became the second
outlet to have television when it went on the air in
December 1955.

Bv 1956, FEN began to shrink as U.S. military facilities
in Japan experienced a phase-down period. Between 1956
and 195S, it deactivated, relocated or modified several
stations into merely relay transmitters. In January, 1958,
for example, FEN Sendai and its nearby relay transmitter
ceased operation. Its equipment moved to Misawa Air
Base where a new station went on the air the same month.
FEN suffered a further reduction in March, 1959, when the
Air Force transferred the Okinawa facility to the Com-
mander on the island. AFRTS Okinawa then became an
independent station. Administrative changes continued
the next year. Finally, operation control transferred from
the Army to the Air Force. The 5th Air Force headquar-
ters in Japan assumed command responsibility.

Armed Forces Television finally reached the Japanese
mainland Christmas Eve, 1960, when the Misawa televi-
sion station went on the air. The new facility was the first
UHF transmitter in Japan. AFRTS broadcasted on UHF so
that the station would not compete with Japan's commer-
cial VHF television operations. In 1962, FEN put televi-
sion on the air at Chitosa and in early '63 at Wakkanai,
using a closed circuit format to satisfy the Japanese
requirements.

The early 1960s also marked the beginning of a series of
reorganizations that changed the chain of command but
effected little change within the FEN operation. In 1962,
the Air Force formed the 6120th Broadcasting Squadron
and placed FEN under its jurisdiction. In July, 1965, they

transferred FEN Clark from the network to the control of
the local Air Force commander. The station became the

headquarters of a new three-station AFRTS network in the
Philippines. Together with Subic Bay and San Miguel, the
Aimed Forces Philippine Network (AFPN) was bom. In
July, 1971, the Air Force established the 6204th Broadcast-
ing Squadron (BRS) at Clark and placed AFPN under its
control. The next year when the United States returned
Okinawa to Japanese control, AFRTS transferred Okinawa
back to FEN and it once again became FEN, Okinawa.

A major reorganization of AFPN occurred in Novem-
ber, 1974. The 6001st Aerospace Support Squadron
( AEROSS) in Thailand merged with the 6204th BRS. The
new 6204th AEROSS controlled all AFRTS stations in the
Philippines, in Thailand and on the island of Taiwan,
rivalling FEN in size. However, in 1976, the 6204th
AEROSS, then reduced to only the Philippine stations,
merged with the 6120th Broadcast Squadron, which
controlled FEN. The new 6204th Broadcasting Squadron
assumed control of all stations in Japan, Okinawa and the
Philippines. Thus, it became one of the largest military
networks in the world.

Within all these mergers, another major reorganization
took place. The FEN Clark station became headquarters
for Detachment 1 of the 6204th BRS and FEN Okinawa
became Detachment 2. Misawa joined the Japanese
network, which included the headquarters station serving
the Kanto Plain area around Tokyo, Iwakuni, and Sasebo.

In 1978, FEN Headquarters arid FEN Tokyo radio
moved from their longtime base at South Camp Drake
into new, modem studios on Yokota Air Base. Television
came to US. forces scattered throughout the Kanto Plain
when KPTM, Channel 11, signed on the air late that year.
Because of Japanese restrictions, the television operation
required a closed circuit cable operation on each base with
the programming sent out from headquarters via micro-
wave.

Television did not reach all American forces in Europe
until the late 1970s. Unlike the Far East/especially Korea,
and the many remote bases that provided little in the way
of outside entertainment, U.S. soldiers in Europe could
usually find lots of things to do during their off time. The
European Command expressed reluctance in establishing
television one base at a time, arguing that when it came, it
should be available everywhere at once. However, the
Ccirnmand simply didn't have the amount of money
needed to execute such a major project. AFN's own senior
civilian staff had no experience in television. So, they'd
just as soon allow the Air Force to continue control of the
medium.

AFRTS' IMPACT ON SHADOW AUDIENCES

Whatever the reasons, during the 50s, 60s and far into
the 70s, AFN continued to operate only as a radio net-

85

work. While its primary audience remained the U.S.
forces stationed across West Germany and in West Berlin,
AFN soon created a "shadow" audience of significant size.

Officially, the Army ignored AFN's German and other
European listeners for two compelling reasons- First,
control of AFN remained in the hands of the Army
commanders who wanted to maintain the network strictly
as a morale and information tool for their commands.
.Any attempt to exploit the shadow audience might affect
the network's credibility and alienate the soldiers. Sec-
ond, the AFRTS programming from commercial networks
was to be used only to provide entertainment to the
troops, without advertisements or any form of political
messages.

Even without any conscious effort to attract the foreign
audience, AFN probablv enjoved a regular, German and
European listening population greater than the size of its
primary audience. This continued into the 1960s, even
after more and more European stations returned to the
airwaves. Whatever the actual numbers involved, AFN
had a real impact on its civilian audience, affecting mostly
their musical tastes. In a 1956 article. Variety observed,
"It's no exaggeration to say that AFN stations are mostly
to blame for the Germans' strong predilection for Ameri-
can music." Four years later. Billboard commented, "It is
AFN's tremendous European audience that created the
trans-Atlantic market for American music. There is scant
doubt on the score."(2) ('Their pun, not ours.)

In England, during the war, AFN influenced British
listening habits even though the many radio stations
scattered on Army bases had a limited range. Even after
the war, AFN reached audiences on the British Isles since
AFN Frankfurt could be heard readily in England at night.
The American programming offered a lively alternative to
me more conservative programming of the BBC A 1964
USIA survey found that eighteen percent of a random
sample of Britons reported listening to AFN. That's quite
an impact!(3)

In the broader perspective, AFN undoubtedly had a
more profound impact on Western Europeans than just on
their culture. AFN programs provided a credible picture
of life in the United States. The Europeans believed it
because of the absence of propaganda that typified Voice
of America and Radio Free Europe. If the network's
outlets could carry news stories critical of the nation's
political leaders, stories of corruption, of tragedy - in other
words, the same information heard back home on civilian
radio - the European listeners could conclude that the
programs reflected the "real" America.

However valuable this benefit proved to be, AFN's
only stated purpose was to supply news, information and
entertainment to its military audience. During the '50s
and '60s, it continued to build on the reputation it had

earned from it coverage of the constantly covering the
Nurenberg War Crime Trials and the Berlin Blockade.
AFN newsmen constantly covered live events. These
included the formation of the West German Government,
the East Berlin riots of 1953, the construction of the Berlin
Wall and President John F. Kennedy's famous 'Tch Bin Ein
Berliner" speech in 1961.

AFN declined in size during the late 1940s as American
Forces left Europe. After the formation of NATO and the
increase in troops on the continent, it would begin to grow
again. AFN Nuremberg went on the air in 1950. AFN
Kaiserslautem began broadcasting from a van in an open
field in February, 1953, before moving into a permanent
home in April, 1954. With NATO headquarters located in
France and so many American military personnel sta-
tioned there, AFN started negotiations with the French
government to begin broadcasting. The discussions
dragged on as French governments came and went in the
pre-de Gaulle days. It was not until 1959 that AFN once
again broadcast on French soil They did so using small
50-watt FM transmitters at most bases and relaying
programs from three studios in Verdun, Orleans, and
Poitiers.

.AFRTS always had to deal with host nation sensitivity.
It rarely broadcast stories critical of the local government.
Nonetheless, the shaky politics in France proved particu-
larly frustrating. The French were sensitive to American
comics poking fun at them at a time when the country
couldn't seem to govern itself. 5o, AFRTS reacted. They
agreed that network stations would broadcast no negative
references about the government This included a restric-
tion on commentary about France of any kind, even if
rebroadcast from an American commercial network. To
insure compliance, the French assigned a government
official to the network's headquarters.

However, AFN's return to France lasted only nine
years. When President de Gaulle withdrew French forces
from NATO control in 1967, he expelled all foreign troops
stationed in France. With the departure of American
Forces required within 2 years, AFN packed up its in 196S
equipment and left. One station stayed with the US
contingent at the new NATO headquarters in Belgium.

THE GLORY DAYS OF RADIO

Such problems aside, the period marked the glory days
of AFN as a radio network. The draft brought large
numbers of experienced radio broadcasters into the
service and those who found themselves in German)'
made everv effort to be transferred into AFN, This gave
the network a large cadre of experienced professional
broadcasters. Funding also allowed for the maintenance
of full-time news bureaus in Paris, London, Bonn and at
most network affiliates. Although television led to the

disappearance of most radio entertainment programs on
the United States networks, at AFN it created a resur-
gence of local programming. To supplement the enter-
tainment package from AFRTS, which now contained
primarily disc jockey-tvpe shows, AFN increased the
production of its own programs.

During the period from 1960-1964, when Lieutenant
Colonel Robert Cranston commanded AFN. the network
reached its production peak. The network was churning
out seventy-five hours of live programming each week.
They produced live drama play-by-play sports special
extended newscasts, and special events' programs such as
"Weekend World" and "Tempo."

AFRTS COVERS PRESIDENT KENNEDY'S
ASSASSINATION

The event that probablv stands out most during the
early '60s was President Kennedy's assassination in
November, 1963.

November 22nd had been a slow news day at the
Castle. In the newsroom, News Editor David Mynatt
was preparing to broadcast "Report from Europe," a
roundup of events from around the continent. The
quarterly meeting of affiliate program chiefs had just
concluded. The Network Program Director, Don Brewer,
was hosting a cocktail party for them in the Frankfurt
Officers' Club. Cranston drove his car on the Autobahn,
stuck in a traffic jam while trying to return to Frankfurt.
He'd been at a meeting at USAREUR Headquarters in
Heidelberg.

At 7:33 PM, the teletype in the Castle newsroom typed
out a message*

"PRECEDE KENNEDY DALLAS, NOV 22 (UP1) - THREE
SHOTS WERE FIRED AT PRESIDENT KENNEDYS
MOTORCADE TODAY IN DOWNTOWN DALLAS*"

"Music in the Air," then one of AFN's most popular
programs, was on the air hosted by Sergeant Llovd Eyre.
In the newsroom. Specialist Four John Grimaldi read the
bulletin. Since it contained no word of injuries to mem-
bers of the motorcade, he decided to stand by for further
developments. At 7:39, the teletype began again:

"FLASH FLASH KENNEDY SERIOUSLY WOUNDED
PERHAPS FATALLY BY ASSASSINS' S BULLET."

Grimaldi tore off the bulletin and took it to Mynatt
AFN policies have always been very conservative about
breaking into programs for news flashes. This was
different. Even though a regular newscast would go on
the air in just twenty minutes, Mynatt broke into the
studio.

"Put me on the air," he told Eyre.

At 7:41 PM, with his voice quivering with emotion,
Mynatt told AFN listeners, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we
interrupt this program for a special news bulletin.

President Kennedy ... on a visit to Dallas, Texas ... has
been reportedly seriously wounded - perhaps fatally.
Well have more as we receive it here at AFN."

This began four days of uninterrupted coverage of the
assassination and its aftermath. Newsmen eating dinner
at the AFN club heard the announcement on the house
speaker and rushed back to the newsroom. Staffers
began to mobilize. They called Brewer and the program
staff at the Officers Club. Cranston heard the news on his
car radio and fought desperately through traffic to get
back to Frankfurt.

When a second update came over the teletype, Mynatt
again pre-empted the program in progress. He read a
report that both Kennedy and Governor Connallv had
been wounded. At 8:00, Mvnatt began the regularlv
scheduled program. As short bulletins came across the
wires, Grimaldi ran them in to Mvnatt who interspersed
mem into the show. By the time he went off the air at
8:15, AFN cancelled all its regular programming. It
would not resume its normal schedule until after the
President's burial in Arlington Cemetery.

By phone, Cranston ordered up the Atlantic Cable for
direct reports from the United States. He instructed the
Network to ignore its Midnight sign-off time and to
continue broadcasting.

At 8:25, the newsroom received a flash from CBS radio
announcing that Kennedy had died. Wilhelm Loehr, the
AFN music librarian rushed to the Castle to begin
preparing special music programming. The news staff
fanned out to gather European reactions for inclusions in
the continuous news coverage of the story.

The continuous reporting of Kennedy's assassination
confirmed AFN's reputation for fast, accurate and
objective handling of news. Several German newspapers
criticized the limited coverage which German radio
provided for the story. Although AFN's use of the
, Atlantic Cable cost the VS. Government four dollars a
minute, the network stayed with it providing four days of
outstanding coverage. It was worth evefv dime.

The story proved to be the last major event which
AFN broadcast from the Castle. In 1962, the Favbwerke
Hoechst, Germany's giant chemical combine, bought the
castle from the Von Bruening family. They informed the
| Bonn Government that Hoechst would like to reclaim it
; for its own use. Hoechst said they would create a dry
and company museum. Both Bonn and AFN promptly
agreed. While the castle could provide beauty and
charm, the AFN staff recognized the advantages of
operating from real studios. They needed a building that
didn't have creaking floors, wintry drafts and insufficient
lavatories.

To replace the castle, Bonn selected a site next door to
the extensive Hessischer Rundfunk facilities in Frankfurt.

Among the benefits of the new headquarters, which the
German government built, was the AFN staffs ability to
develop both personal and professional contacts with
their German broadcasting counterparts. In return for the
right to reclaim the castle, the Bonn government assumed
the S2.3-million costs of building the new headquarters.
To create some highly sophisticated soundproofing, they
buried the studios deep inside the core of the building and
mounted them on gigantic springs. Individually air-
conditioned rooms housed heat-sensitive equipment. The
builders bonded and completely grounded all metal used
in the construction. They broke ground in 1964 and two
years later, AFN moved out of its fourteenth century-
home and into state-of-the-art facilities. This was an apt
rewards for two decades of pioneering excellence.

At the opening celebration, speakers suggested that the
facilities would be adequate for as long as AFN existed.
The prediction proved accurate for only seven years, the
period the network remained a radio-only broadcast
service. The limited scale of Air Force TV operations in
Germany, which had begun in 1957, couldn't provide
service to the vast American Forces in Europe. No Army

facility received television until Bad Kreuznach tied into
the Air Force system in 1971.

Later that year, Secretary of the .Army Robert Froehlke
visited Europe. He declared, "The biggest boost to morale
in Germany would be to give our troops and their families
American television." His statement would set the wheels
in motion for television-

The troops would need it.

NOTES - CHAPTER 19

(1) "Men of the Pueblo," "After Action Report," n.d[1968].

(2) "Variety" May 2, 1956, "Billboard" July 22, 1960.

(3) "US1A," "Listening to Foreign Broadcasts in Six p
Countries of Western Europe," Research Report
No. R-224-64, Washington, 1961

CHAPTER 20

VIETNAM: THE EARLY DAYS

Despite the importance of entertainment programming,
the news component of AFRTS has always had a key role
in the total broadcast operations.

THE ARMED FORCES NEWS BUREAU

At its peak during World War II, AFRS shortwave
programs were beaming 1,086-hours of programming a
week. One-third of San Francisco's programming was
news. Almost twenty-four percent of the New York
broadcasting day consisted of news. After the surrender
of Germany, the need for extensive operations in New
York diminished as troops began to return home or
transferred to the Pacific. APRS cut programming by
sixty-nine percent. The staff was reduced to six people.

Fortunately, the fall of Japan didn't end the shortwave
operation on either coast News and feature programs
began to appear, including "The Navy Reporter," which
went on the air June 5, 1945, and continued well into the
postwar period. Secretary' of the Navy Forrestal intro-
duced the first program asking sailors around the world
to write-in and ask questions on any topic the)' wished.
On the entertainment side, a three- times-a-week program
called "Musical Memories" debuted in the fall of 1945.

In anticipation of consolidating operations, some
thought to close the New York faculties during 1946. In
the end, New York stayed open while the San Francisco
station dosed West Coast short-wave operations moved
to Los Angeles.

By 1952, sixty percent of AFRS stations around the
world had the capacity for tape recording programs. The
local stations could record the shortwave programs and
rebroadcast them at a later time. While AFRS shortwave
broadcasts diminished to fourteen hours daily, the
headquarters supplemented the news and information
programming with about sixty-three hours a week of
entertainment sent out via mail service

In an effort to centralize the news operations, the
Armed Forces Information and Education Office moved
the News Bureau to Arlington, Virginia, on December 9,
1965. Four months later, the Pentagon decided to consoli-
date its Armed Forces Press, Radio and Television Service
in New York and the facility in Los Angeles. It would be
run by the Armed Forces News Bureau. On January 1,
1967, AFNB began its broadcast operations. Later that
year, it became AFRT5-W. It's mission of providing news
via shortwave stayed the same.

Not all AFRTS personnel readily accepted the establish-
ment of AFNB. Many expressed concern that the agencv

represented an "inherent threat of centralized news
management and censorship." To others, it seemed that
AFNB was an effort to automate and centralize the entire
AFRTS operation. That would reduce the networks and
independent outlets to no more than relay stations.(l)

The concern that AFNB would produce news pro-
grams that would present only the military's point of view-
quickly became moot. Over the years, the AFRTS short-
wave operation had written and broadcast many of its
own news programs. Once in operation, AFNB elimi-
nated its own newscasts and began sending out only the
regular on-the-hour news programs from the commercial
networks and audio services. That policy continues to this
day. This action removed the concern over managed
news, but it brought complaints that the network news
now included military spot announcements. By contrast,
the shortwave news had no interruptions.

The inclusion of AFRTS-produced spots solved the
problem of using commercial news containing advertise-
ments, It provided a way to carry out a key AFRTS
mission, to promote internal information. The network
simply replaced one form of advertising for another.
Plugs for bonds, safety and reenlistment replaced spots
for cars, deodorants and aspirins. As Hovt L Wirtz,
AFRTS Chief of Broadcast Services, noted in 1972, this
provided a "fantastic opportunity to deliver messages
about service benefits and opportunities/^) The format
would prove to be extraordinarily effective and it contin-
ues to this day.

By 1972, Ar^RTS- Washington employed more than two
dozen civilians and more than a dozen military personnel.
It broadcast 336 newscasts weekly, nearly three-quarters
of them "live" from the radio networks. When CBS Radio
began its 24-hour newscast schedule April 1, 1973,
AFRTS- W began carrying the hourly programs. They
built in a seven-second delay in order to give the staff time
to insert the AFRTS spots in commercial slots. With the
end of the New York and Los Angeles operations in 1966,
AFRTS-W became an all-talk operation. It reached troops
and Navy ships around the world from transmitters on
both the East and West coasts.

THE VIET NAM CONFLICT ESCALATES

Even before AFRTS-W started increasing numbers of
Americans were being sent to Vietnam. For the first time
since Korea, they were engaged in combat. When Presi-
dent Kennedy came into office in January, 1961, a 685-man
limit existed on the size of the U.S. military mission in
Saigon. At the end of November, the number of service-
men in Vietnam rose to 948. It doubled to 2,646 by
January 9, 1962. It doubled again to 5,576 by June 30.

Two Army helicopter companies were flying combat
support missions. An air commando unit, code named
"Jungle Jim," was "instructing the Vietnamese Air Force
in combat air support tactics and techniques.''^)

As was the history of armed forces broadcasting,
Americans in remote locations began to seek means of
entertainment. Like those stories of the Canal Zone, in
Alaska, in the Philippines and in Casablanca, they began
to provide radio services for themselves in "an
uncoordinated, spontaneous effort." This happened not
only in Saigon, but wherever VS. troops and advisors
found themselves throughout Viet Nam. In Saigon, the
station operated in a bachelor enlisted men's quarters
using "informally" requisitioned equipment (scavenged
and 'comshawed'}. The soldier's handmade transmitter
reached as far as the military mission in the South Viet
Namese capitaL(4)

On July 6, 1962, Radio Hanoi began beaming programs
to the recently designated U.S. Military Assistance
Command, Viet Nam (MACV), following the tradition of
Tokyo Rose and Axis Sally. Whatever audience the music
and propaganda broadcasts garnered. Radio Hanoi lost
only fort} r days later when American Forces Radio,
Saigon, went on the air!

In early 1962, General Paul D. Harkins, Commander
MACV, directed his chief of communications (J-6, Signal)
to look into the matter of providing entertainment and
news for his troops. His staff negotiated with the South
Viet Namese government to use 820-KC in the Saigon area
and four other frequencies for use in-country. APRS in the
Philippines donated a World War II vintage tactical
transmitter. MACV erected it in the Viet Namese Radio
Communication complex at Phu Tho. The Rex Hotel in
downtown Saigon housed the studios. The station went
on the air at 6:00 AM on August 15th. In his opening
address, General Harkins cited the connection between
the AFRS in World War II and the AFRTS in Vietnam

"The creation of AFRS proved a boon to the morale of
our fighting men in World War II. Today, many Ameri-
can servicemen are again far away from their homes and
families in many locations throughout the world. The
need for Armed Forces Radio, therefore, continues. It is
perhaps even more important considering the complexi-
ties of today's world." Harkins acknowledged the efforts
of both Americans and Vietnamese to put AFRTS Saigon
on the air. He said it provided "tangible evidence of the
teamwork that characterizes our joint effort here." He
concluded with the "sincere wish that AFRS Saigon will
uphold and enhance the outstanding reputation that the
Armed Forces Radio Service enjoys throughout the world
and that it'll be America's most successful medium of
information, education and entertainment"

At first, almost all audio, transmitter and broadcasting

equipment was "borrowed" from the United States and
Vietnamese military and civilian agencies. Spare parts
and supplies came from various military resources. The
staff came from COMUSMACV personnel resources, a
five-man crew and several part-time volunteer announcers
who ran the station and an initially 18-hour broadcast day.
As an official AFRTS outlet, the station used news from
the AFRTS-LA short-wave operation. However, neither of
the California transmitters at Delano or Dixon produced
anything approaching a reliable signal in Saigon. To get
the news, AFRTS in the Philippines arranged to relay the
short-wave signal. This they did through the Voice of
America transmitter for about two hours a day - from 3:00
to 5:00 PM Saigon time-
By mid-August, 1964, the studios and administrative
personnel moved from the Re>: Hotel in Saigon to the
Brink BOQ. That location provided more operating space.
The station also acquired a Bauer one-kilowatt transmitter
through normal procurement channels to replace the
tactical transmitter. That significantly improved both the
quality and strength of the broadcast signal.

MACV deployed small 50-watt repeating transmitters
throughout South Viet Nam so that most American troops
could pick up the signal from AFRTS Radio, Saigon. The
Saigon station acquired a 50-watt Gates FM transmitter
and two-bay FM antenna, which went on the air by the
end of October. By December, when AFRTS sent an
inspection team from Los Angeles, AFRTS Vietnam had a
staff of seventeen, including six local national employees.

The team found significant problems in coverage
throughout the country. AFRTS' final report noted that
AFRTS Radio Saigon sent out broadcasts through eleven
relay outlets. "According to MACV estimates," it said,
"ninety-four percent of the U.S. military personnel in Viet
Nam are within range of radio broadcast. The DoD team
made personal observations at four of these outlets. They
found the coverage to be inadequate because of the
technical lack of equipment."

The report praised the success of the Commander's
Information, Education and Entertainment program in the
Saigon area. The inspection team found that the station in
the capital provided "an essential command tool in
reaching personnel." They also concluded that the
"technical deficiencies of available equipment greatly
reduce the effectiveness of AFRT radio broadcast to
personnel stationed outside the Saigon coverage area."

VIET CONG BOMBS AFRTS

Before the station could take steps to improve the
station's range, it came face to face with the reality of
operating in a combat theater. On Christmas Eve, listeners
to AFRTS Radio Saigon suddenly lost their signal in the
middle of a holiday program. The Viet Cong had set off

250-pounds of plastic explosive at the Brink BOQ, killing
two people and injuring scores of Americans. The blast
caused considerable damage to the hotel. The stations'

studios fell to ruins. The staff immediately turned to an

auxiliary unit and put the station back on the air in twenty
minutes. They broadcast news reports of the explosion
until normal service could be restored about two hours
later.(5)

The ability to maintain reliable operations helped
AFRTS Saigon create the perception that it served as the
soldiers' "little bit of home." The station manager ac-
knowledged that programming remained "a big challenge
to satisfy the needs of all our listeners." By the end of 1964,
the station's staff of 19 full-time personnel was producing
fifty percent of its own programming. The balance came
from the AFRTS package. It broadcast local features on
Viet Nam, including one-minute spots on the country's
history, customs and language. For its live news pro-
grams. Radio Saigon used the Associated Press and United
Press International wire services. It also aired taped
remote interviews for its coverage of special events.(6)

To improve the broadcasting operation as suggested in
the AFRTS report, MACV-J6 conducted its own study in
January, 1965. It concluded that saturation coverage to
reach the 23,000 troops in the country could be achieved by
using four 50-kUowatt and several 10-kilowart stations
dispersed throughout Vietnam. AFRTS quickly approved
the recommendations and the staff purchased the equip-
ment Unfortunately, the Saigon government withdrew
the use of the station's frequency in the capital. This forced
MACV to conduct a general reexamination of the whole
frequency and location plan. Outside of Saigon four large
stations operated at Da Nang, Qui Nhon, Pleiku and Cam
Ranh Bay.

In February, while the efforts to improve coverage
continued, the radio programming underwent changes.
Radio Saigon, with renewed approval of its frequency
increased its programming from eighteen to twenty-four
hours a day. It also commenced special FM programming
during the afternoon and evening hours as another step
toward expanded operation. Meanwhile, in Washington,
Pentagon leaders began even more ambitious plans to
provide information and entertainment to the rapidly
growing number of troops in Vietnam. These plans
included television.

THE "BLUE EAGLES"

In May, the Joint Chiefs of Staff gave a special assign-
ment to the Navy's Oceanographic Air Survey Unit.
Operating out of Patuxent River. Maryland, they would fly
C-121 Super Constellation aircraft as AM/FM and TV
transmitters for "research and other special projects." The
planes received the names "Blue Eagles." In May, work

began on Blue Eagle One for configuration as a high-
power communications and relay statioa When com-
pleted, the Navy deployed the plane to Viet Nam to
broadcast AM and short-wave. They arrived in-country
in time to provide live radio broadcasts of the 1965 World
Series. Sandy Koufax pitched a shutout in the seventh
game as the Champion Los Angeles Dodgers beat the
Minnesota Twins 4 games to 3. And, the troops, de-
lighted, heard it all.

Meanwhile, the Pentagon determined that television
would significantly contribute to the U.S. policy objectives
in Viet Nam. These included policies of rural pacification,
urban stability, national unity, free world support and the
US presence there. The Navy began special modifica-
tions on Blue Eagle Two and Three Their new configura-
tion enabled them to broadcast television programming
on two channels with several radio communications
capabilities. Each plane had two television transmitters
(200-watts each), AM (10,000-watts), FM (1,000-watts), and
short-wave/single sideband with a four-channel teletype
hook up (10,000-watts, all simultaneously if required).
They also had two video tape recorders, six audio tape
recorders, two 16mm film projectors, and a small live
studio.

While the Blue Eagles were outfitted, on December 2,
1965, Deputy Secretary of Defense Cyrus Vance approved
additional television facilities of outside Saigon. The
United States and Saigon Governments reached a formal
agreement on December 24, authorizing AFRTS television
in the Republic Ambassador Henry Cabot Lodge and
Tran Van Do, RVN Minister of Foreign Affairs, officially
signed the agreement in Saigon on January 3, 1966. That
paved the wav for the Blue Eagles to begin broadcasting.
Deployed to Vietnam in January, 1966, the planes began
flying on February 7. VS. Forces received television on
Channel 1 1 and Vietnamese citizens viewed Viet Namese
programs on Channel 9.

Television service began with a special program that
included speeches by Premier Nguyen Cao Ky, Ambassa-
dor Lodge and General William Westmoreland. AFRTS
Saigon produced the program right in the airport terminal
at Tan Son Nhut. Cables connected the cameras to the
video recorders aboard one of the Blue Eagle planes
parked nearby. The plane then took off, and at 730 PM
television came to Vietnam with the broadcast of the
official greetings. Regular programming began a half-
hour later. The programming initially consisted of the
AFRTS television package on 16mm film, coupled with
live news broadcasts from the plane's onboard studio.

The first step in providing television for the Vietnamese
was a studio set up in downtown Saigon to provide
programs on video tape. Vice President Hubert
Humphrey emphasized in a speech that television

programs by and for the Vietnamese should be brought to
the most remote villages. He believed TV could be "a
decisive factor in nation-building and establishing
national unity in South Viet Nam." AFRTS Saigon
received the task of providing engineering assistance to
the Joint United States Public Affairs Office- They would
build independent television stations for the Vietnamese
government. This marked the first time any Armed
Forces Radio and Television network had received the
assignment of such a mission.(7)

In a February 5, 1966, memo, the Deputy Secretary of
Defense established a four-station radio network using
high-powered transmitters. MACV had proposed the
transmitters and provided funds to supplement the
Command's budget, both for the radio facilities and to
increase the proposed television facilities. As part of this
effort, construction began in Saigon for AFRTS television
permanent studios. Plans evolved for the creation of a
South Vietnamese wide television network, improved
radio broadcast facilities and an increase in AFRTS
personnel.(8)

In short order, contractors built seven television vans,
using the model of the AFRS experience with mobile
stations in World War II and Korea. The Sacremento
Army Depot supervised the construction of the vans
themselves. Each contained complete studio and trans-
mitting equipment, a 5,000-watt transmitter, two 16mm
projectors, a slide projector and multiplexer, a full audio
and video console and a small studio with TV camera. A
mobile camera supplied with a viewfinder could be used
in a larger studio. The TV station/van also housed a 120-
foot lightweight tower and a specially-designed antenna.
Two trailer-mounted 45-kilowatt military generators
accompanied the vans. The generators had ample
capacity to power the station. The vans were a major
achievement in TV engineering for the field.

The major achievement in programming took place on
March 24, 1966, when AFRTS established a new two-way
Pacific link between Saigon and AFRTS LA in Los
Angeles by underwater cable. This enabled AFVN to
receive stateside radio programming twenty-four hours
daily from the AFNB in Washington. Even so, major
sports events, important speeches and top-rated special
events could not be broadcast on a real time basis as they
were over networks in the United States.

AFRTS PLANES MORTARED

The war itself again intruded on AFRTS Saigon
operations on April 13, when the Viet Cong attacked Tan
Son Nhut Air Base with mortars, damaging all three Blue
Eagle aircraft Blue Eagle Two sustained two hits. A
survey of that damage by two Navy inspectors concluded
that, while the planes could be repaired, the work would

take from nine to thirteen weeks. Although Blue Eagle
Three could fly, TV programming dirriinished to five days
a week while civilian technicians and Air Force mainte-
nance men frantically undertook the repairs. After 28
sixteen-hour workdays, Blue Eagle Two resumed flying
with its regular television programming on May 11. That
was at least five weeks ahead of the predicted repair time.

Meanwhile, the television vans began to arrive in Viet
Nam and a small group of technicians began the difficult
task of installing the equipment. Under the command of
Captain Willis Haas, they located the first van on Vung
Chua Mountain in Qui Nhon Province and began broad-
casting on September 25, 1966. General Westmoreland cut
a ribbon of television tape to open the station. In his
remarks, he noted that Qui Nhon was the first ground
television station in Viet Nam. The planned country-wide
TV network would be of "great value to the troops in
providing wholesome entertainment and news of the
world."

The Qui Nhon Post Exchange sold nearly one thousand
television sets in anticipation of the station's opening!
Haas said, "We believe we have 5,000 to 10,000 viewers
now and we expect eventually to reach all 24,000 US.
servicemen in our broadcast area."

Initially the station broadcast for three hours a day, but
eventually increased its schedule to fifty-six hours a week.
Included was the TV series "Combat." One of the staff
observed, "We might even have our own version of
'Combat' one of these nights We have an alert about once
a week because of the Viet Cong."(9j

On October 21, the second van/station went on the air
from Monkey Mountain in Da Nang. Four days later, the
new flagship station in Saigon commenced broadcasting
both AFRTS and Vietnamese programs. ■

With the need for aerial transmissions over Saigon
eliminated, the Blue Eagle planes began flying south of the
city to serve the Mekon Delta with Vietnamese program-
ming. Then, on September 30, the beloved Constellations
flew their last regular missions over Vietnam. They had
performed an extraordinary service, bringing radio and
TV to thousands of American and Vietnamese soldiers .
and civilians. Two of the big planes returned to their
home at the Naval Air Station, Patuxent River in Maw-
land. The third stayed at Tan Son Nhut as a backup for
the ground stations.

The Saigon station's official opening took place on
October 31, 1966, with Premier Nguyen Cao Ky and
General Westmoreland taking part in the ceremonies.
They simultaneously cut a video tape stretched between
the main studio and the transmitter buildings. They also
laid the cornerstone for the new Vietnamese TV studio
although actual construction didn't begin until late May,
1967.

92

Once in the new studios, AFRTS Vietnam became the
first Armed Forces Radio and Television operation to
present radio news broadcasts on the hour, twenty-four
hours a day. A small group of military newsmen covered
local news briefings and news from the combat fronts,
often providing current information ahead of the commer-
cial press. In addition, the station's news department
supplied Vietnam war reports to the Armed Forces News
Bureau in Washington for worldwide dissemination.

Hie staff of AFRTS Vietnam never lost sight of the fact
that they were functioning in a combat zone. On Decem-
ber 23, 1966, while a Christmas party was taking place in
the new building, the station received small arms fire. No
casualties occurred and broadcast operations continued
without interruption.

The growth of the United States military involvement
in Vietnam required a continued buildup of AFRTS
personnel. Arrival of new staff and responsibilities
usually outpaced the receipt and installation of equip-
ment. The radio and news sections of the Saigon station
moved into the new studios between January 2 and 6,
1967. AM radio began operations from its expanded
facilities at 9:00 AM on the 6tk FM broadcasting origi-
nated from the new studios on January 13. The network
reached it's authorized personnel strength of 161 just a
few weeks later.

The remaining five vans finally arrived and went into
operation. The third van became operational on Dragon
Mountain in Pleiku on February 1. Van four, sited on Hon
Tre Island, near Nha Trang, provided service to both Nha
Trang and Cam Ranh Bay and went on the air March 13.
The last three vans arrived at almost the same time, and
two went on the air in May. Van five began operations
within the city of Hue on the 15th. Van six went to Tuy
Hoa and started broadcasting on the 26th. The last van
stayed at the AFRTS compound in Saigon where it served
as a training unit for replacements.

The Saigon station housed the network headquarters,
including the supply and engineering sections. It con-
tained the main studio building with AM and FM master
control, a newsroom, three radio production studios and a
record library. On the TV side, it had a TV film library,
telescine and kinescope room, TV master control and a
large television studio. Other facilities in the compound
included a transmitter building. It housed two 25,000-
watt TV transmitters for channels 9 and 11. It also housed
a 1,000-watt AM radio transmitter and a 1,000-watt FM
transmitter. A generator building that had three 200,000-
watt generators provided power for the entire complex. A
300-foot steel tower supported an 80-foot television
antenna, specially designed to radiate signals on both TV
channels. The design of the antenna increased the effec-
tive power of the transmitters by an approximate factor of

tea with an effective radiated power of 240,000-watts.
That was sufficient to cover Saigon and the entire sur-
rounding area!

THE AMERICAN FORCES VIETNAM
NETWORK BEGINS

Despite the increase to twenty-two transmitters, some
areas of South Vietnam still couldn't receive an adequate
radio signal. To solve the problem, AFRTS installed five
high powered AM transmitters throughout the country.
Three of the five were 50,000-watts, positioned at Cat Lo
(for the Saigon and Delta area), Pleiku and Cam Ranh Bay.
The remaining two 10,000-watt transmitters provided a 5-
millivolt signal throughout most of South Vietnam. When
the transmitter at Da Nang became operational on June 1,
1967, AFRTS Vietnam became a true radio network. It
adopted the name "American Forces Vietnam Network
(AFVN)inJuly.

For television, work began on an unmanned repeater
station at Phan Rang. It would relay the TV signal from
the Hon Tre Island transmitter to the American troops
within a 100-squa re-mile area. When it began broadcast-
ing on October 22, 1967, the television network became
fully operational. Estimates indicated that at least eighty-
five percent of the American forces in Vietnam were able
to receive AFVN television programs.

For the first time in history, a military command had
provided full television senice to its troops in the field.

There were even more milestones to reach for armed
forces broadcasting.

To do so would require more than G. I. ingenuity, more
than dedication and hard work. For some, it would
require the ultimate sacrifice.

NOTES - CHAPTER 20

(l)Broadcasting, May 13, 1968, p 80.
{2)Miliary journalist, Summer, 1972, p 91.
^Pentagon Papers, pp 89, 110.

(4) "Fact Sheet/' American Forces Viet NanvNetwork, nd.
(1972) Unless otherwise indicated, the following
material comes from this source

(5) Armv Times, Januarv 27, 1965, p E4.

(6) Ibid."

(7) Nflt> York Times, February 8, 1988, p 16.
(S)Deputy Secretary of Defense memorandum, "Armed

Forces Radio and Television Service for the Republic
of Viet Nam," February 5, 1966; Stars and Stripes
(Pacific), September 1, 1966, p L
(9)Teletvpe storv, September 25, 1966; Interview with
Willis Haas,' November 9, 1984.

VIETNAM, THAILAND AND
THE FINAL DAYS

As workprogressed toward the completion of the Viet
NamNetwork'sradioand television facilities, concurrent
efforts continued to improve the program content of both
radio and TV.

Following the move to the new studios, the station made
several additions to the AFVN news services. The UPI "rip-
n-read " radio wire replaced the old UPI press wire. For
news sources, the station obtained ABC Television News
film, AP radio service and the AP Library Photo Service.
All this was in operation by the end of 1967.

Local news, sports, wea therand command information
productions accounted for eleven percent of the total
schedule. Fifty-five hours a week, one-third of the total
programming, carried command information subjects.
These included United States and world information
features. On an average, more than one hundred radio and
television command information spots aired weekly. For
special events, AFVN broadcast such programs as "The Bob
Hope Christmas Show." The network's remote crew
recorded that program on Christmas Day, 1967, on-location
at Bearcat, and it was re-broadcast network wide on January
5,1968.

AFRTS UNDER ATTACK
AGAIN

The network's existence in the midst of a war 2one made
it anything but typical. From the first attack on the station
in December, 1 964, the staff knew that they never functioned
farfrom danger.

Almost three years to the day, on December 11, 1967, the
Nha Trang television site came under mortar attack The
mess hall and NCO Club near the outlet took direct hits
resulting in minor damage. The major casualty was the club
TV set. The staff suffered no casualties.

On January 7, 1968, Da Nang's Red Beach radio trans-
mi tterfacility sustained damage from rocket fragments.
The attack severed the transmission line to the radiating
towers. The engineering staff repaired it and restored
complete operations within two hours.

During the Tet Offensiveof 1968, AFVN Headquarters
received at least six alerts that a Viet Cong ground attack
was imminent and that the station was a target. As a result,
the Network Commander completely revised the opera-
tional procedures. Hecreated twocomplete24-hour crews

94

to insure continuous manning and operation of the
neUvork'sprimarv'sourceofprograrnming.

Such precautions couldn't, of course, prevent the attacks
themselves:

AFVN SUFFERS CASUAUTIESAND WORSE

On the morning of January 31, 1968, the mess hall of the
station on top of Vung Chua Mountain came under enemy
fire, but sustained no damage, That night. North Vietnam-
ese regulars, who were in control of Hue, attacked the
AFVN station again with small arms and light mortar fire.
The station NCOIC, Army Sergeant John Anderson, later
recalled that until the Tet Offensive, the worst thing that'd
happened there "wasacoupleofmortarartacks." He had
every reason to believe he was going to get out of Viet Nam
unscathed. He had a job in a secure area, he had only a
month to go on his tour, and he was only six months away
from retirement

Explosions woke Anderson and his men at 230 in the
morning. Moments later, bullets smashed through the
barracks windows. The North Vietnamese had surrounded
the station. No serious damage or injuries occurred
initially, but the attack continued for the next five days. The
staff defended itself until its supplies began to run out. By
that time, a Marine sergeant had been killed and all the
others had been wounded at least once. With only about
100 rounds of ammunition left and their water gone, the
means to resist was fading fast.

The AFVN staff decided that their best chance for
survival lay in getting to a friendly compound a mile away.
They made a dash for it. Unfortunately, they ran into North
Vietnamese army regulars and Viet Cong. Thev were
captured and spent the next five years in North Vietnamese
prisons. After he returned to the United States, Anderson
remembered, ''Getting captured is the last thing anyone
ever thinks about In Viet Nam, the possibility always
existed, but it was so remote I never gave it any thought "(1)

Like Anderson, AFRTS staffers who served tours in
Southeast Asia discovered what all soldiers quickly came to
realize. The Viet Nam War was like no other conflict the
UnitedStates had known.

There were no front lines.

No place was completely safe.

THREE MORE DIE

The AFVN Headquarters found this out on May 3, 1968,
when the Saigon station suffered considerable damage from
a car bomb attack. A Viet Cong drove a small Renault taxi
loaded wi th 1 1 pounds of TNT across an open field
adjacent to the station. He detonated the explosives directly
in front of the AFVN television building. The blast de-
stroyed the front of the headquarters, killing three network
employees and two others in a small Vietnamese food stand
near the compound. The explosion also damaged the

exteriorstrucfureoftheAFVNheadquartersbuilding. It
shattered glass, split the front door, blew holes in the roof
and collapsed the ceiling in offices and studios. AFRTS'
typical reaction: continued opera tionswithoutmterruption!

AFVN civilian personnel, mostly under contract from
RCA, continued todevote considerable energy to building
up South Vietnam's television capacity. Their efforts
reached fruition on March 15, 1968, when AFVN turned
over to the Saigon government the flagship station building
adjacent to the .American headquarters complex Two more
facilities remained under construction while the
government's Saigon station commanded the largest
Vietnamese audience in the country, an instrument by
which the leadership attempted to win support.

The high power (250-Kilowatt effective radiated power)
station in Can Tho would follow theGVN headquarters
station on the air in late Spring, 1968. However, during the
Tet Offensive, tnebartledarnagedthealmosKompleted
station so severely* it had to be completely rebuilt. It became
operational onNovemberl9, 1968.

After the Communist defeat during Tet, AFVN put
emphasis on the production of its own programming. This
includedmeestablishrnent of a on-the-job training and
cross-training program. The program offered training in the
production of command information spots and increased
production support of AFVN detachments in the held. To
promotecreativin'amongstfieldproduction personnel,
AFVN trainees with AFVN regulars at headquarters
produced several thirty-minute TV shows. These included
"Nashville Vietnam," which featured counrrv-and-westem
military talent.and "Strawberry Four," whichhighlighteda
popularlocalVietnamesevocal-and-instrumental combo.

SPECIAL EVENT MILESTONES

AFVN Network Radio also experienced a major over-
haul during '68. Music programming changed in the
direction of the "mod" sound since three-quarters of the
listening audience in Viet Nam was under the age of 25.
The average age was 19.5years. Presidential election
coverage was extensive, using the AFNB direct line from
Washington to bring major network live coverage to the
war zone. They broadcast the World Series and recapped it
later in the day for the benefit of those unable to hear it the
first time. At the end of the year, AFVN Radio broadcast
live the major bowl games and did a special countdown of
the 100 top songs of '68. The Beatles sang, "Revolution,"
and Jose Felliciano gave a new rendition of "The Star
Spangled Banner. " Troops danced to Blood, Sweat & Tears
and laughed at Tiny Tim, as if the music of the day reflected
exactly the conflicts of the times.

The radio network broadcast live, remote broad casts
from Tan Son Nhut when Archbishop TerranceCooke
celebrated a Midnight Christmas Mass and when evangelist

Bill\ f Graham conducted a Sunrise Service. AFVN fed them
simultaneously to AFRTS Washington forrebroadcast to
Armed Forces stations around the world.

AFVN didn't rest in its drive to enhance its program-
ming. AFRTS reached anagreementwithCBS-TV to
provide AFVN with video tapes of the network's Evening
News Program with Walter Cronkite. The LA Headquar-
ters began shipping the show to Saigon on a daily basis on
April 17, '69. AFVN News took segments from the CBS
programs and in tegra ted them into its regu la r television
newscasts.

On the radio side, AFVN News kept the troops informed
of world, national and local events with live coverage of
majorevents and reports from the worldwide wire services,
In particular, the network reported on the progress of
President Nixon's eight-point peace plan. It carried his
announcementat Midway that the United States was
reducing its forces in Viet Nam by twenty-five thousand.

By the summer, the network had nearly reached its final
form. AFVN operated seven detachments sited in secure
locations across Viet Nam besides the flagship station in
Saigon. Five stations broadcast both radio and TV. Two
transmitted televisiononly.

The radio networkhad three 50,000-watt AM transmit-
ters, three 10,000- watt AM transmitters, a 1 ,000-wart AM
transmitter and four FM transmitters, two of which were
shortly to become FM stereo. To enhance production at the
TV outlets, each in-country station received two studio
cameras for live TV broa dcasts .

AFVN covered all aspects of July's Apollo 1 1 mission.
From conunerdalnehvorknewsoperarions,aspecial jet
from the Philippines flew in video tapes of the daily events
of the first journey to the moon. The tech staff worked
'round-the-clock to produce duplicate copies of the tapes.
Then, they immediately distributed them to each of the
seven in-country television outlets. Thanks to their dedica-
tion, most of the U.S. Forces in Viet Nam followed the
voyage of ApoDo 11 within twenty-four hours of the world-
historic event!

The first successful moon landing probably didn't draw
as much attention from the troops as did two speeches by
President Nixon that September discussing troop cutbacks
in Vietnam. AFVN radio broadcast both speeches live and
carried excerpts on television the day after. The President's
initiative marked the teginning of the end of Armed Forces
Radio and Television in Southeast Asia.

The network continued to improve its service through-
out 1969. The Saigon station began stereo FM broadcasting
on October 14. Less than a month later, Da Nang followed
suit.

The same month, thousandsof American troops in
Vietnam were able to watch same day coverage of the
splashdown of Apollo 12. An Air Force jet immedia tely

flew a copy of this event which received via satellite by
AFPN, to the AFVN where it aired only hours after the fact.

Special event reporting continued with in-country live
remotes of Bob Hope Christmas shows and coverage of
distinguished visitors, Themostpopular American to visit
the troops (with the possible exception of Hope) was "The
Duke." John Wayne. He coupled selfless visits with the
troops with his 1965 on-location study for the movie. "The
GreenBerets."

Another celebrity, and the one to whom AFVN gave the
most coverage, was pretty AFRTS disc jockey Chris Noel.
The Los Angeles headquarters recruited thestarletinl966.
She would do a record and talk show in the mode of G.I. JUL
AFRS's World War n answer to Axis Sally and Tokyo Rose.
On her program, "A Date With Chris," Noelplayed' top-40
hits interspersed with words of comfort. Noel said that she
took the job "because I wanted to do something for my
country." Of her audience, she said, "All they had were
little transistor radios to take them sway from the lonely
nights. For fifty-five minutes to have some softness in their
lives made an incredible impact. "(2)

For men who counted the days until the end of their
tours, her encouragement and songs surehelpedalleviate
the loneliness. Yet, it was ChrisNoel in person that had the
most impact. In December, 1966, "A Date with Chris" went
on the air. Shortly afterward, AFRTS sent Noel on the first
of several visits to Vietnam. She publicized the show and
performed in spots, station ID's and promo's for the in-
country stations. Captain Willis Haas was Noel's escort
officer. He noted in his after-action report of one 1 1 -day
visit, "Miss Noel's visit to Viet Nam was highly productive.
She raised the morale of the men whom she visited and
generated much good will toward AFRT-VN among the
troops."(3)

"I'd talk to them and sign autographs," Chris said. "The
job which they created for me in the '60s was very unique."
It allowed her to use her ability as a "nurturer." In Viet
Nam, she learned that the Viet Cong had put a price on her
headbecauseofhermorale-boosringprogramandin-
person visits.

"When I was in 'Nam, 1 was going, going, going, giving,
giving, giving, putting out energy. I felt I had to be strong
for my men. That's how I looked at them."(4) Her dedica-
tion is legendary.

AFVN WARTIME CONSTRUCTION
CONTINUES

Thefirst countrv'-wide live remote tele\'ision broadcast of
"The Bob Hope Christmas Show" occurred on December 28,
1969, from Long Binh, In April, AFVN completed the first
in-country, rity-to-dty (Saigon to My Tho to Vinh Long to
Can Tho) microwave transmission system. Thisenabled
AFVN to provide television coverage to servicemen in the
Mekong Delta.

A 50-watt repeater transmitter began operation on May
22, giving radio service to the Tuy Hoa area. Television
studio facilities became operational at Chu Lai on May 17,
and at Qui Nhon on May 26. The latter station also gained a
videotape replay capability.

AFVN surveyed more than a thousand U.S. servicemen
during the summer of 1970. Reflecting a new generation of
G.I. tastes and preferences, thenetwork made nine pro-
gramming changes. Theyaddedmore"underground"
music on AM radio and increased sports coverage during
the football season. FM broadcasts extended to twenty-four
hours at the Da Nang station on January 9, 1971.

MORE AFRTS STAFFERS KILLED

All this service didn't come without a price for AFRTS
staffers in Vietnam and at the sister Southeast Asian
Network in Thailand. OnJune8,1969,threeenlistedmen
from the Saigon station were killed when their Jeep struck a
land mine. The AFVN newsmen had been filming the last
episode of a six-part series on the activities of military
chaplains in 'Nam.

Then.on April 10, 1970, a crippled F4 Phantom Jet
returning from a mission over Vietnam to its base at Udom,
Thailand, crashed into the second floor of the BOQ. It
plowed into the Armed Forces Thailand Network station.
The support building and van turned into an inferno.

N ine more AFRTS staffers were killed.

Station manager Jack Lynch escaped death because he'd
just gone to the hospital to check out a soreelbow. Hearing
the crash, he ran outside to see a column of black smoke
rising from the direction of the station.

"I went around the comer and there was just nothing
there," he recalled. "Through all that smoke and flame, it
looked like the crash just destroyed the whole thing. You
could see that there was just not much that could be done at
that time." Lynch later discovered that the plane had
landed "right on top of my desk! The nose was inside the
back door and the tail was inside the front door."(7)

Even before the shock wore off. Lynch and his three
surviving staffers began efforts to put the station back on
the air. With immediate assistance from their headquarters,
they began radio broadcasts within thirty hours, using a
signal relayed from Korat. They borrowed two mobile
homes that Chase Manhattan Bank had sent to Urbon, and
began live radio operations within thirty days using
equipment sent in from other stations. The station then
"jury-rigged" a rum-chain-only television setup located ina
converted "hootch-rype"barracks. Itwas partially enclosed
and air conditioned for the equipment. The temporary
facility had no live cameras. Announcers simply read the
newsoverappropriateslides. Meanwhile, efforts went
ahead to secure a new television van from existing AFRTS
resources. The crash had created an extraordinary crisis-

96

Yet, the surviving staff at Udom approached the disaster
with exemplary' dedication and a single goal in mind. They
would put the station back on the air as soon as possible.

AFRTS THAILAND

By 1970, the Thailand Network, which operated under
the jurisdiction of the -Air Force, consisted of siv manned
radio and TV stations and seventeen radio or television
relay facilities. AFTN had manned outlets at the headquar-
ters stationat Korat, at Nakhon Phanom, Takhli, Ubon,
UdornandU-Tapao. The unmanned stations at Samaesan
and Vayama provided both radio and television by relay
from U-Tapao. The other repeater transmitters provided
only radio to small groups of American servicemen.

The rad io sideof the Thailand operation broadcast
twenty-four hours a day using virtually the entire AFRTS
package except for theprograms designed for dependent
children. Tneysupplementedthisprograrruningwithabout
eight hoursof locally-oriented programs. Thetelevision
stations operated during the week from threeO'clock in the
afternoon until Midnight and from 10:00 AM to Midnight
on weekends. They used the fifty-five hours of program-
ming included in the AFRTS package and added produc-
tions from the station libraries, local spots, news and special
events programs. This included a "very vigorous command
spot program" that the network felt was "one of the most
effective methods forgetting thecommand message
across."{5)

Each of the manned TV stations in Thailand began
operation using a mobile van flown in completely equipped
from the United States. The self-contained vans lacked only
power and air conditioning. Each station consisted of
complete film chain faculties, audio and video control,
associated support equipment and a small studio for live
newscasts. The network later constructed a support
building at each installation with facilities for the radio
operations and another television studio. Eventually, the
vaasbecame solely transrmrting facilities.

The Thai government expressed concern about the
intrusion of American culture among its people. So, the
networkhad to carefully engineer the radiated transmis-
sions from both television and radio to insure that the signal
would stay within the confines of the installation. Since few
Thaishad TV sets with UHF, television presented few
problems to the network. Radio signals couldn't be so
easily contained and on occasion the government gave stem
warnings to the American Embassy about the future of
AFTN operation in Thailand.(6)

VIETNAM DRAWDOWN

Back in Viet Nam, AFVN faced equally trying, if not as
tragic, circumstances in trying to maintain a fully-integrated
operation as U. S. Forces began their massive withdrawals

during 1971.

Detachment 7, Chu Lai ceased operating on 20 December
1970. Radio and TV program sen-ice continued through a
transmitter, which repeated the Da Nang signal. As the
troopsdeparted,thenetworkshutdowTi more stations
beginning with Tuy Hoa in July and Can Tho in September.
Through the implementation of anautomaticrebroadcast
system, AFVN continued to provide radio and television
service to the few remaining forces in both locations. The
studio equipment from thedeactiva ted outlets went to other
AFRTS operations or returned to the Sacramento Army
Depot.

As the drawdown continued, the broadcast detachments
relocatedand reorganized. Troubleshooting maintenance
teams visited each unit at its new location to provide
technical supportand guidance. Downtime and projected
equipment outages decreased. The level of logistical
support and the broadcast signals remained strong.

During the relocations, nature, not the enemy.caused a
major crisis. On October 23, Typhoon Hester knocked Da
Nang off the air for several days. It blew down both the FM
and TV towers. Nonetheless, the maintenance teams were
able to return FM to the air on October 26, TV on the 28th,
and AM on October 29.

The network continued to experience cuts in staff and
budget during the year. Still, it maintained itsproduction
activities. In December, it provided live television coverage
of "The Bob Hope Christmas Show" forthe third consecu-
tive year. It distributed both tape and film copies to stations
throughout Viet Nam and to the Thailand Network. AFVN
also produced a special, "1971: GX Christmas," which it
sent to all outlets.

As station closings continued, the remaining outlets
pro\ided wider coverage. By December, 1971 , Hue's radio
and television broadcasts reached to the DMZ in the north
i and to the Hai Van Pass in the south. It was me first time a
single station in Viet Nam had covered such a wide area.

Because of a growing security problem. Hue went off the
airon February 14, 1972. TheQuiNhonDetachment
phased down with the troop redeployments. Radio went
off the air on February 14 and tele\ision on February 22.
The Government of South Viet Nam received the station "s
equipment

The reduction in the size of AFVN and relocation of
stations continued a pace with the withdrawal of American
j Forces. CamRanhBay went off the air on April 30. Onjune
26, its staff began an outlet at Nha Trang.

AFVN'S TENTH ANNIVERSARY

During 1972, the work of AFVN became even more
important in helping maintain the morale of the remaining
troops. On its tenth anniversary. Secretary of Defense
Melvin Laird congratulated "all personnel, past and

9?

present, of the American Forces Viet Nam Network as it
marks its Tenth Anniversary. The dedicated efforts of these
hundreds of skilled men and women are well known and
appreciated by all who have served in the Republic of Viet
Nam. All command levels recognize their efforts as truly
professional. Now, as wecontinue to decrease American
involvement in this area of the world, the work of the
American Forces Viet Nam Network is no less important
For those thousands who felt a little closer to home because
you were there, I thank you for a job well done."

Yet, the end of AFVN was only a matter of time.

On March 23, 1973,Lieutenan*t Colonel Felix Casipitsent
a telegram fromSaigon to AFRTCmWashington. He
advised that his unit had shipped all retrogradable equip-
ment from Da Nang, Pleiku, Nha Trang, Can Tho, and Cat
Lo. The Government of Viet Nam received any remaining
material. The final packing of equipment at the Saigon
station neared completion. The retrograde of the TV film
chain stopped, pending a decision on MACV's request to
retain the facility. Casipit laconically closed his telegram:

"AFVN ceased to be as of 2400 hours 22 March 73."
A group of DoD civilians established an FM automated

operation on March 23, and designated it American Forces
Radio Senice Viet Nam.

Still, amongst criticisms and controversy, there would
be many more plateaus for armed forces broadcasting to
reach.

NOTES - CHAPTER 21

(1 ) Sergeant Major Mike Mason, "POW: Anyone Can
Be One," Soldiers, October 1983.'

(2) Washington Post, November 9, 19S4, pp Fl,4

(3) Captain Willis Haas, Jr. to Chief, Armed Forces
Radio and Television, Viet Nam, "Project Report,"
December30,1966.

(4) Washington Post, op til

(5) Richard Risk, "AFTN Briefing," late 1970; Interviews
with Gary Sumrall, June 13, 19S3;Jack Lynch,
January 26,1984

(6} AFN briefing.
(7) Lynch interview.

CHAPTER 22

CONTROVERSIES

If the War in Vietnam was anything, it was controver-
sial Thus, it wasn't surprising that AFV'N came under
criticism about the way it handled the reporting of the
conflict. Criticisms came from the men doing the fighting
and from those who supported the combatants.

Even before specific allegations surfaced from the
network's own reporters, its audience expressed concerns
about differences between AFVN newscasts and others.
The Network's 196S Audience Survey reported that "the
problem of exclusion of certain types of news is delicate.
Some form of news management for security reasons, will
always be necessary* in a combat zone. Unrestricted and
unmanaged flow will only provide the enemy with an
additional source of intelligence." The Survey also
pinpointed the issue, which had been of concern from the
earliest days: credibility. "In those cases where no security
is involved and where the civilian media are disseminating
what might be considered embarrassing news items, their
exclusion from military newscasts can only damage the
credibility of the outlet."(l)

Network news editor Nick Palladino saw the legitimacy
of some command security requirements inherent in a
combat environment and the need to respect host nation
sensitivities. However, Palladino observed that middle
echelon officers of MACV (Military Assistance Command
Vietnam) manifested excessive zealousness in earning out
their assignment "Part of the problem was that we were
controlled by Major- and Lieutenant Colonel-level people
at MACV. Thev either didn't have the experience or, I
guess, an appreciation for news. All they were doing was
covering their butts on what they perceived as potentially

harmful."(2)

From time to time, the news department received lists
of words and phrases that the announcers couldn't use in
their locally-produced newscasts. Even some quotes
required a clearance. Particularly delicate were comments
by certain politicians who opposed the war - including
Robert Kennedv and Wayne Morse. According to
Palladino, these were people who were "consistently
negative about the war and the war effort Their com-
ments would hurt the morale of the troops. MACV
wanted the opportunity, not so much to analyze, but to
hear what they had to say and to decide whether it was
truthful or pertinent. "(3)

Palladino agreed with MACV and AFRTS guidelines
that certain news should be kept off the air. "1 understood

that Everybody at the network headquarters understood
it You couldn't discuss potential coups, for example,
when they would come in. That'd be the case in any
overseas country. We couldn't discuss stories, which
eluded that the President or Vice President (of South Viet
Nam) had once been a drug runner, while he was in the
Air Force. I understood that. The Vietnamese government
would've probably sent somebody and closed us
down."(4)

The newsman's disagreement with MACV restrictions
came on such matters as the editing of President Johnson's
comments mat the command believed were inaccurate.
Palladino was told to delete the President's reference to a
terrorist action against a hospital in Da Nang or Na Trang.
The officer told him, "As far as we know, that didn't
happen. Cut it out" Palladino felt the action was "going
overboard," but he obeyed instructions and edited out the
remarks before broadcasting the President's comments.{5)

"Now, when the President of the United States says
something," Palladino said, "it's not my position or
anybody in the military's position to say that he's inaccu-
rate. Nor, mat we don't like his interpretation, et cetera.
That's, to me, just going too far." Even if the President
might be wrong, he wondered. "So what? He's still the
President. I don't see the point in cutting it out We have
inaccuracies all the time. Once you make one cut, men
who is to say that next week someone won't say, 'Well, I
don't like his attitude on this issue. Let's cut that out' You
know, vou get the ball rolling once you set the prece-
dent"^)

The degree to which MACV attempted to manage the
news varied with many factors. These included the US.
political timing, the war status in-country, the Network
Commander and the officers at the command (NACV)
who had responsibility for supervising radio and TV.

"We had ups and downs. We had periods when the
right people were running the thing and there was a lot
more free flow. But we had other periods where it was so
restrictive, it was ridiculous," said news editor
Palladino.(7)

FREEDOM OF INFORMATION

One of the better periods for AFRTS News occurred in
the spring of 1967. That's when Secretary of Defense
McNamara took pains to reiterate the long-standing DoD
regulations mandating freedom of information for Ameri-
can forces around the world. On May 1, 1967, the Secre-
tary addressed the matter in a memorandum to his high
military and civilian officials in the Pentagon,

"The public information policy of the Department of
Defense demands the maximum disclosure of information
except for that which be of material assistance to potential
enemies," he said.

The Assistant Secretary of Defense for Public Affairs
had responsibility for "assuring that nothing inhibits the
flow of unclassified information to the American Public.
Members of the .Armed Forces constitute an important
segment of the public- They're entitled to the same
unrestricted access to news as are all other citizens.
Interference with this access will not be permitted. The
calculated withholding of unfavorable news stories and
wire service reports from troop information publications
such as Stars and Stripes is prohibited. So is the censorship
of news stories or broadcasts over such outlets as Armed
Forces Radio and Television Service."

Within the military itself, the Assistant Secretary of
Defense for Manpower had the responsibility for taking
"all actions necessary to assure a free flow of information
to our troops. News management and meddling with the
news will not be tolerated, either in external public
information or internal troop information. "(8)

The Secretaiy's memo produced a period of relative
freedom for AFVN, but by the middle of 1969, MACV was
again attempting to impose greater control. In July, nine
news branch staffers addressed a written request to the
network news chief. They asked about censorship
practices and restriction of certain widely accepted
terminology in regard to news reports. Their request
went unanswered for more than a month. Two of the
writers drafted letters to six congressmen asking for their
assistance in bringing to an end unjustified news manage-
ment regarding war news broadcast over the network. By
mid-September, only Senator Edmund Muskie had
responded and then only with a simple polite acknowl-
edgment.

CENSORSHIP IN THE NEWS

On September 17, Specialist Five Michael Maxwell
called the CBS News Bureau in Saigon, offering to give an
interview. Before the TGV camera, he charged that
censorship existed at the Saigon headquarters of AFVN
and provided specific examples. One such example was a
recent decision of the MACV Office of Information. They
had directed that a September 15th announcement by
South Viet Nam Vice President Nguyen Cao Ky would
not be released. It described a large US. troop with-
drawal, and Washington had not yet made an official
announcement. Although President Nixon's Press
Secretary, Ron Ziegler, made the announcement that
evening (Saigon time) and AVN reported it the following
morning, the network still didn't report Ky's announce-
ment.

More than twenty-four hours after Ky made his
statement, President Nixon issued his announcement on
the withdrawal. AFVN immediately broadcast it Inter-
estingly, Vice President Ky had given a different figure

from that of the U.S. President for the number of troops
the U.S. intended to withdraw.

Maxwell's appearance on CBS produced a minor
controversy.

In response, Representative Chalmers Wylie (R-Ohio)
requested an investigation into the matter on behalf of Sp/
5 Maxwell, his constituent. Senator J. William Fulbright,
Chairman of the Senate Foreign Affairs Committee,
responded on October 1 that his committee would be
holding hearings and it would keep in mind their com-
plaints.

By mid-October, the MACV Inspector General pro-
duced a report of its investigation. The Inspector General
recommended AFRTS assign a qualified professional
broadcaster as OIC of AFVN. On October 22, Congress-
man Wylie issued a statement saying that the report
particularly pointed out a lack of communication within
the AFVN news unit. After the recommendations were
implemented, the congressman said he considered the
case closed.

If the IG report satisfied the congressman, it produced
an entirely different response from Maxwell. He and
former AFVN News Chief Randall Moody both consid-
ered it biased and a whitewash. Moody, for one, had
charged earlier that AFVN was "a propaganda organ
rather than the legitimate news disseminating agency it
claims to be." He cited the banning of a commercial
network news story that had reported a Pentagon investi-
1 gation of defective armored vests. Network officials had
also ordered him not to report corruption in the South
Vietnamese Armv nor a story about an ARVN soldier
who'd shot two American servicemen.

The commander of AFVN, Lieutenant Colonel James
Adams, denied that the network ever did any "real
censoring" under his command. He explained, "These
censorship charges stem primarily from young men who
misunderstood our efforts to avoid broadcasting news
that would hurt morale or help the enemy. "(9)

After leaving the Army, Moody detailed his experi-
ence: "I was confronted with the regulation requiring a
clearance by the U.S. Command's Information Office."
Such offices function as public relations outfits. AFVN
news policy, like its stateside counterparts, required
judging items of news on their merits as news. Moody felt
that the entire AFVN news operation was "hamstrung" by
censorship from the U.S. military authorities, the State
Department and even the South Vietnamese govem-
ment.(lO)

Moody claimed, "Almost every story that was either
critical of the U.S. effort in Viet Nam or tended to embar-
rass or put MACV in an unfavorable light, was censored!"
He recalled a newscast that reported on a Washington
press conference in which Secretary of Defense Qark

Clifford called a series of enemy attacks a "third offen-
sive." Ten minutes after the broadcast, the American
Embassy press section called to ask about the source of the
story. It happened to be a wire service. They asked why
the station had used the "third offensive" phrase when the
news department knew that regulations prohibited it. The
network commander answered that the report was only
quoting the Secretary directly.(ll)

Whatever the accuracy of Moody's accounts, his
criticisms reveal a failure to appreciate that the AFVN was
operating in a combat zone. He did not understand the
nature of the network and the policies under which it
operated. A complete freedom of the press remains the
ideal to which AFRTS has always committed itself.
Moody was naive to think a radio and television network
broadcasting under wartime conditions could enjoy the
same freedom of operation as a mainland commercial
station. He showed no awareness of the need for AFRTS
to respect host nation sensitivities. So, he didn't under-
stand that in deleting stories unfavorable to the Vietnam-
ese government, AFVN wasn't censoring news but simply
following necessary AFRTS policy.

Following the issuance of the IG's report, AFVN
produced a new set of operating procedures to help clear
up any misunderstandings regarding it's internal opera-
tion. Despite the effort, in the last days of December, still
another controversy arose, this time regarding a breach of
news policy.

CENSORING EDITORIAL

On December 21, 1969, Air Force Sergeant Hugh
Morgan ignored Vice President Agnew's criticism of the
commercial networks for their instant analysis of presi-
dential speeches. During his intro to an analysis bv CBS'
Eric Severeid of a speech by President Nixon, Morgan
noted that the Severeid's commentary came six days after
the President spoke. Within a week Morgan received
orders for assignment to the network's Detachment Two
in Da Nang.

When queried about it afterward, the network's OIC,
Lieutenant Colonel James Adams, suggested that
Morgan's transfer was simply a coincidence. The Da
Nang station needed a new staffer and AFVN shifted its
people quite often. In any case, the story of Morgan's
comment and his transfer appeared in the New York Times
on December 30. It didn't reach Saigon viewers until the
11:00 PM newscast on January 3. Then, breaking away
from his normal voice-over narration of news film,
Specialist Five Robert Lawrence launched into an emo-
tional appeal against alleged news censorship on the
network. ".As a newsman, I'm pledged to tell the truth at
all times, and IH always tell the truth either in the military
or as a civilian. In the miliar)' in Viet Nam, I've found that

a newscaster isn't free to tell the truth "(12)

Lawrence's comments precipitated immediate reac-
tions both in Viet Nam and in Washington. AFVN

reported the announcer's action on its 3:00 AM radio
newscast the next morning. Later in the day, Lawrence
was questioned by the MACV Inspector General. He was
served courtmartial charges on an unrelated incident and
men reassigned as a chaplain's assistant in Konrum
Pro\Tnce in the Central Highlands, leaving behind a
growing controversy.

Senator Joseph Tydings (D-MD) asked the Air Force to
reinstate the airman, his constituent. Representative ]ohn
Moss, Chairman of the House Foreign Operations and
Government Information Subcommittee, announced that
he'd conduct his own investigation into the censorship
allegations. He had previously scheduled a trip to Viet
Nam to look into information problems in MACV and
would add this to his agenda.f 13)

Meanwhile, in Viet Nam, the MACV Inspector Genera!
conducted another investigation of the alleged censorship
following the Lawrence episode. On January 28, 1970, the
IG concluded that the network was operating within the
guidelines established by DoD policy and no censorship
existed.

The report examined AFVN's mission in Viet Nam and
network news policy that determined which stories
actuallv went on the air.

"The mission of the network is to inform U.S. military
personnel. This mission also includes the responsibility of
not misinfonrung,'' it said. The IG observed that the
network had "the inherent responsibility in the combat
zone not to release or broadcast information that would be
of value to the enemy." The report declared that "host
nation sensitivity" remained a primary consideration in
determining what any AFRTS station could broadcast.
"Material that would offend the host country cannot be
used. This does not, however, prohibit the use of material
that is simply unfavorable to the host country." The
investigation revealed "that considerable comrnt'ntarv
unfavorable to the Republic of Viet Nam was originated
by commercial sources. Using such material fed to the
conclusion that the material had not been arbitrarily
eliminated because it may have been unfavorable to the
hostcountry."{14)

Congressman Moss's committee also found AFVN
innocent of censorship. It concluded that some instances
had existed of news management or at least the exercise of
poor judgment in the handling of news in Viet Nam.

The complaints of staffers and the controversies that
swirled around the network news operation were under-
standable, if not somewhat predictable. After all, the
network was operating in a combat theater and under the
jurisdiction of a sovereign nation. Surely, the idealism of

young journalists would one day clash with the military's
need to control information that might prove useful to the
enemy. Those who complained about the suppression of
news may not have understood AFRTS' need to balance
its news with a respect lor host nation sensitivity.

HOST NATION SENSITIVITY

AFRTS' right to broadcast on foreign soil has always
remained one of its major achievements. In order to
preserve the agreements permitting the access to the
required frequencies, AFRTS has had to exercise care in
respecting the sensitivities of host nations. This is true
even in countries whose governments often survive only
because of support from the United States. The local
AFRTS operations have always done everything possible
to insure mat nothing in the programs they broadcast
would offend the people and their local traditions. If all
AFRTS programs went out via cable, or didn't radiate
beyond the perimeters of the bases, then AFRTS would
have no problem

Fortunately, in many countries, the staffs don't have to
deal with host nation sensitivities. Either the local people
and governments are open to criticism or the American
TV and radio signal is not compatible with the local
format. Where the local population can watch or listen to
AFRTS programming, the sensitivity issue becomes
important

Colonel David Cole was the Commander of the AFRTS
Broadcast Center from 1981 to 1986. He pointed out that
the programming is going out "on public airwaves in a
country in which we are guests. The host nation foils are
often watching and listening right along with our audi-
ence. We must use care not to embarrass the host people
and government, or in the extreme, to influence elements
that support the overthrow of it. The host government
owns the frequencies. Our right to broadcast is dependent
on its approval."

NO CENSORING AT AFRTS-BC

The AFRTS Broadcast Center doesn't censor material
before distributing it Cole explains, "We merely screen
the material distributed on tape and audio disc. Then we
advise AFRTS networks and stations that material coming
their way might prove sensitive to the host nation. We
have no way of screening radio and TV materials sent live
by SATNET.

"The United States Embassy in each nation has the
responsibility for deciding what subjects the local govern-
ment might find offensive. In rare instances where we
spot a sensitivity in a program, the AFRTS station man-
ager or network commander checks with the local U.S.
Embassy. The Embassy representative determines
whether the material is appropriate for airing."(15)

In Arab countries, for example, AFRTS didn't broadcast
news about Israel for many years. Outlets even deleted
reference to "Jews." In 1964, an airman stationed at
Wheelus Air Base in Libya complained that the local
AFRTS station didn't mention "Jews" in its programming.
After receiving the complaint and communicating with
the military about the matter, Senator Jacob Javits (R-NY)
heard from the Air Force that the charges were true.
However, the Service denied that the action was censor-
ship but rather represented normal AFRTS policy of
deleting program material that might be objectionable to a
host country. Nonetheless, Javits made his point By the
mid-1980s, AFRT5 no longer had a "polity limiting
information/news about the State of Israel on AFRTS
broadcasts anywhere in the world."(16)

LIVE FEEDS ON SATNET

SATNET brought a whole new dimension to AFRTS. It
also brought new problems in countries such as Korea
and the Ftulippines where the host governments are
particularly sensitive to criticism. Before the widespread
use of the satellite, the AFRTS networks or local outlets
produced their own nightly news programs. This allowed
the news stairs time to consider stories that might present
problems to the host government. With SATNET, AFRTS
feeds live CNN and other VS. commercial network
newscasts directly from the United States every day. In
most countries, AFRTS stations can select any feed and
use it live. In the Philippines, the people there were very
sensitive to criticism of Marcos and his family during his
rule. So, the AFRTS outlet had to tape the evening news
and look for host nation sensitivity before airing it Once
Marcos left, the problem went awav.

AFRTS faced a similar problem during President
Reagan's visit to Korea in 1983. In its coverage of the trip,
"NBC Nightly News" did a critical report on the Seoul
government, calling it "repressive." AFKN, which might
normally have used an NBC news feed received from
SATNET, substituted another network's evening news to
avoid offending the Seoul government Cole stressed that
this was a State Department call and didn't constitute
censorship. "AFRTS did not withhold items critical to our
form of government or the present administration. That
would never be allowed. The Broadcast Center staff in
Los -Angeles does not look at an item as pro- or anfi-
adrninistration or supportive or non-supportive of U.S. or
DoD policy. If the American public has access to the
material, we pass it on to the Armed Forces overseas just
as we originally receive it. If a story is possibly offensive
to the local host nation, we notify the station that the
Embassy may consider withholding it"(18)

Each year, the AFRTS Broadcast Center requests that
Embassies provide an updated list of sensitive subjects for

102

each country. AFRTS-BC makes sure to inform it's outlets
when program material contains any of these subjects.
Even if an item is withheld from use, Stan and Stripes, the

armed forces newspaper, serves as backup to AFRTS and
usually covers the story in great depth. With its circula-
tion limited primarily to military facilities, Cole says the
paper is not subject to the same host nation sensitivities.
(19)

The success which AFRTS broadcasters have had in
resisting efforts to dictate program content has varied,
largely depending on the support the}' received from their
officers in charge.

CENSORING HIT SONGS WITH HOT LYRICS

During his tenure in the mid-1960s as Commander of
AFRTS Los Angeles, Air Force Colonel Robert Eby
received a message from the Captain in charge of the
Caribbean Network. He complained about the content of
many of the songs included in the radio package. In
essence, the Captain told Eby that he found several lyrics
not acceptable to his audience. He intended to set up a
screening committee to decide which records he'd put on
the air. In response, Eby gathered the radio production
people in his office to listen to some of the music.

While producers admitted that some of the lyrics were
probably questionable, no one had taken time to listen
carefully to the words. They were too hard to understand,
often sounding just like "a montage of different voices."
When Eby listened to the records, he was shocked by the
words of "one of the better, softer" songs bv a popular
group. The song not onlv protested going to Vietnam, but
encouraged, as a young man's alternative to military
senice, staying home and making love to his friend's
mother. Despite such lyrics, Eby knew he "had a delicate
problem" if he attempted to ban the songs from the
AFRTS package. He'd certainly hear cries of censorship.
Plus, keeping popular songs from servicemen overseas
would be violating the AFRTS mission. That is, to provide
the troops with the same entertainment that was available
back home.

Eby went to the major Los Angeles radio stations. He
discussed the problem with their program directors. From
each of them, Eby received a list of records that they'd
decided met acceptable community standards. He then
consolidated the list into a master chart from which the
AFRTS radio producers could construct their programs. If
questioned again about a selection AFRTS included in its
package, he had a ready answer. "We're only doing what
the better stations of Los Angeles are doing."(20)

AFRTS' JURISDICTION ESTABLISHED

This approach contrasted significantly with incidents
that occurred in Viet Nam and later in Spain. In the

summer of 1971, Lieutenant Colonel Laurence Souviile,
the Officer-in-Charge of AFVN, banned the hit song
"Bring the Boys Home." He took offense to the phrase,

"everybody oughtta lay your weapons down." AFRTS-
LA had included the Freda Payne song as part of its radio
package to all outlets. Colonel Souville's unilateral action
kept the song from being played on AFVN.(21)

Likewise, in 1976, the Commanding Officer of the
Naval Station at Rota, Spain, attempted to keep a hit song
off the airwaves. Although AFRTS is not under a base
commander's jurisdiction, this officer's efforts illustrated
the problems AFRTS outlets have faced in maintaining
their independence and control of their programming:

Navy Lieutenant Paul Hanson enjoyed a good work-
ing relationship with the first two Naval Station Com-
manders. Their tours coincided with his while he was
OIC of the Air Force-operated radio outlet and later as the
PAO for Commander of Naval Activities Spain.(22) With
the arrival in Rota of Captain Charles Roe, the new Navy
Commander in 1976, things began to change. Captain
Roe began calling the OIC at night at home to report
complaints about the station and the programming.

One day, according to Hanson, "the crap hit the fan so
to speak" over two novelty songs on the Wolfman Jack
and Charley Tuna disc jockey shows. Thev were included
in the AFRTS library package. One was "Don't Touch Me
There," by the Tubes. "The Shaving Cream Song" was
the other. Roe immediately complained to Hanson about
the two songs.

He also objected to some spots the station had pro-
duced urging people to save water because of a severe
drought. One of the suggested saving w r ater by not
flushing toilets all the time, while another said that
without conservation, the only available water might
soon be in the toilet tank. The campaign had been very-
successful. Roe found the latter spot, in particular,
"disgusting, revolting and immoral" because he claimed
it suggested people would be forced to drink water out of
a toilet bowl. Even though Hanson pointed out that the
spot said "tank," not "bowl," the Commander insisted he
take it off the air. The Station Director acceded. How-
ever, he didn't order the novelty songs off the air. Fortu-
nately, novelty records quickly lose their popularity.
They'd soon disappear from the entertainment package.

Paul Anka's "You're Having My Baby" created
problems for Hanson that didn't disappear so easily.
Containing allusions to premarital sex, pregnancy and
abortion, the song quickly became a top-ten hit, and so
found its way into the AFRTS library package. When Roe
heard the song, he called Hanson into his office. He
prohibited him from playing it on the station. "I don't
want to hear that damn song, that damn immoral song on
the radio again!" he said.

103

Hanson informed the Captain that while he could
direct his own disc jockeys not to play the song, DoD
regulations forbade him to remove it from the AFRTS
programs. Roe said. "1 don't care what they say. 1 am
telling you to take that song off the air!"

Hanson tried to explain that the only way to remove
the song was to have AFRTS-LA label it as sensitive to the
host nation. They would have to remove it from the
package sent to the three -Air Force-run stations in Spain,
This probably wouldn't happen since Spanish radio
stations were also playing the song. Hanson agreed to
take the song off his own programs, but repeated that he
could do nothing with the AFRTS programs. This didn't
satisfy the Base Commander. A few days later, Hanson
found himself removed from his job and reassigned to Air
Traffic Control The station never broadcast Anka's
record again.

As a Navy officer operating an Air Force-controlled
radio station, Hanson had little recourse through the Air
Force. The Navy Broadcasting Service had only recently
come into existence and was still primarily concerned
with bringing radio and television service to ships. It was
only just beginning to take over land-based broadcast
operations assigned to the Navy.

Preparing to accept his fate, Hanson called Jordan
Rizer, the head of the newly-organized Navy Broadcast-
ing Service. He advised him that he'd received orders.
He'd no longer be the Navy's contact in negotiations to
bring television to Spain.(23)

At that point the matter became more than simply the
efforts to censor one song on one AFRTS radio station.
Rizer took the matter to Rear Admiral David Cooney,
Navy Chief of Information, who'd worked closely with
him in the creation of the Navy Broadcasting Service.
Cooney was a strong defender of the prerogatives of his
public affairs community and, along with Rizer, saw
Hanson's transfer as a jurisdictional matter. First he
argued that Hanson could not be reassigned without the
authority of the Chief of Information. Second, he raised
the question of censorship of DoD-fumished materials,
copyright and music industry agreements with AFRTS.
Both men began efforts through Navy channels to reverse
the Rota commander's actions. When listeners at Rota
discovered what had happened, they, too, wrote to their
congressmen complaining about the censorship of a
popular song by the base commander.

A meeting of senior Navy Commanders in Europe
happened to be scheduled in Rota. There, several Admi-
rals took Roe aside and made it clear to him that thev
were tired of this controversy, They told him to settle the
matter, immediately. When Hanson returned from thirty-
days leave, the Captain offered him his old job back.
Hanson tried to turn down the reassignment on the

grounds he had only thirty days left in-country. The
Captain gave him no choice.

Of course, by then, "You're Having My Baby" was no
longer on the top 40 list.(24)

Through the efforts of "Buzz" Rizer. Admiral Cooney
and Robert Cranston, the Director of the American Forces
Information Service, Hanson's career never suffered from
, his efforts to keep control of his station's broadcast
materiaL More important, the incident also helped to
insure the jurisdiction of the Navy Broadcasting Service
over its personnel. It gave them independence in their
operations and an ability to resist the efforts of outsiders
to dictate the programming. With the Navy Broadcasting
Service, and later the Air Force and Army Broadcasting
Services in place, station managers reported directly to
those who assigned them. Because they could obtain
support when they needed it, they would avoid the
problems Hanson faced.

While efforts to censor music may not seem compa-
rable with the attempts to manage or censor news, the
principle remains the same. Any denial of news, informa-
tion or entertainment available to Americans at home
damages the credibility of the entire broadcast operation.
Censorship also adversely affects its mission. The efforts
to ban certain songs from the air are usually more obvious
than censorship of news. Therefore, it is easier to deal
with bans or music than are threats to the unfettered
! delivery of news. It's in the news area that AFRTS has
been more susceptible to interference. News controver-
sies are more difficult to resolve than by simply enforcing
DoD directives or supporting station commanders.

AFRTS has denied charges of censorship whenever
they've arisen. Only the requirements of military security
or host nation sensitivity are possible reasons for sup-
pressing stories that've appeared stateside. The nature of
operating constraints on AFRTS has contributed to the
perception that it hasn't always provided a free flow of
unbiased news to its listeners.

PROPAGANDA AND CENSORED NEWS

In 1963, the agency also suffered a loss of credibility
when a superior authority directed it to broadcast a
program which listeners immediately recognized as
propaganda. AFRTS received unquestionable instruc-
tions mandating that it air a USIA-produced news
analysis program. Since AFRTS had a much wider
audience and greater credibility than did the Voice of
America, Edward R. Murrow, then head of USIA, ap-
proached the Defense Department. He asked that Armed
Forces Radio accept for mandator)' broadcast, two five-
minute news analyses each week da)'. AFRTS objected.
The programs contained propaganda and violated the
organization's long cherished mission of providing news

101

untainted with government "messages" to American
forces overseas.{25)

John Broger, then the director of the Defense
Department's Office of Information and Education, the
parent organization of AFRTS, explained. "The mission
and purpose of American Forces Radio and Television
and USIA are drasticaUy dissimilar. AFRTS provides
news, information and entertainment to military person-
nel overseas. USIA is primarily an instrument of U.S.
foreign policy."

Nevertheless, on February' 5, 1963, a higher authority.
Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, agreed to accept
the USIA material "It's my desire to disseminate this
official information to all US. military personnel abroad,"
he said. "Each Armed Forces Radio Station will broadcast
these programs as received." The only exception to this
order was to be in "those countries where written agree-
ments with the host government prohibit this tvpe of
official U.S. broadcast"(26)

AFRTS had no choice.

The program, entitled "Today's Analysis of Events
from Washington/' began on February 11, 1963, and aired
on all outlets except in France, which did object to the
content In an effort to make the program more palatable
to listeners, Broger reached an agreement with USIA.
He'd personally screen every segment "since there were
obvious sensitivities that superseded their sensitivities,
and relationships with local governments which were the
basis of our franchise to broadcast in that particular
country. If there was some problem in the screening, we
were to be able to discuss it with them and have a
correction made "(27)

Robert Cranston, who later replaced Broger as director
of the newly-renamed American Forces Information
Service (AHS), was at the time the commander of AFN.
He rejected a USIA claim that the program was being
broadcast so mat servicemen would receive better news
than AFRTS provided. "It was a subterfuge to say that
the program was broadcast to the American forces as
being the only news they needed to hear. The main target
was really the eavesdroppers, the shadow audience.
Everybody knew the real reason for the program."

AFRTS and its audience were not alone in their
dissatisfaction with the decision to cam- the program.
VYTOP Radio and Television in Washington, D.C, began
an editorial campaign against the USIA effort. On April
22, 1963, the station observed that Congress had created
the USIA as an information service, not "an instrument
tor propagandizing the American people themselves."
The station observed, "Today's Analysis' can't be
broadcast to American troops in the United States. Why,
then, shouldn't the same prohibition apply to troops on
overseas duty?"

Again, on October 28, 1963, the station editorialised,
"The USIA was specifically created to present the Ameri-
can point of View to foreigners overseas. That's is its only
proper function. Yet, USIA is creeping into the business
of propagandizing the people of this country. One
manifestation is the use of USIA news commentary by
American Forces Network stations in Europe, stations
operated primarily for the benefit of American sen-ice
personnel and their families." WTOP concluded that "the
USIA should get out of the business of supplying any
form of material to armed forces stations. It should
restrict its activities solely and exclusively to overseas,
non-American audiences. That is its only legitimate
functioa"

WTOP's strong position against the USIA program-
ming on AFRTS outlets was not surprising. The president
of its parent organization, the Post-Newsweek Stations,
was none other than John Hayes, the first commander of
AFN. Writing to John Seigenthaler, Editor of the Nashville
Tetmessean, Hayes explained. "We'd find ourselves like
Alice in Wondertoid if we stated that an American living in
Nashville should be exposed to a Government attempt to
influence his free exercise of thought. Especially, if we
then have him exposed to precisely this type of danger
because he becomes a member of the American Armed
Forces, and is stationed in Europe in company with
thousands of his compatriots."(29)

The WTOP Editorial Board hadn't entered into the
controversy lightly. "We are quite convinced of the
correctness of our position, and we do intend to persist in
it"

Neither the media nor the internal dissent was able to
change the USIA decision. The USIA programming
continued for four years until 1967. Then, the new
director of the agency, Leonard Marks, advised Secretary
of Defense McNamara, "I've recently reviewed this
arrangement, and I feel mat it has outlived its usefulness.
Accordingly, I'm terminating this service effective March
15."(30)

While Broger did not know the reason for the change
by the USIA, he "assumed that the reason was an effort to
enhance USIA credibility.{31)

AFRTS had little or no power to avoid such outside
intrusions on its operations. Another case in point
occurred at AFN in October, 1967.

MILITARY CENSORSHIP

William Slarter, the managing editor of AFN and
deputy to Network News Director Da\id Mynatt,
addressed a press luncheon in Frankfurt on the 27th.
There, he complained that AFN editors were hampered in
reporting certain news dealing with US. forces in Europe
without first obtaining clearance from the military chain

105

of command. For instance, AFN could not broadcast a
news story of graft in the European Exchange System for
some 26 hours. They had to wait until the EES had
prepared a statement of its own on the charges. A
superior told him that he saw "no harm done" in waiting
a day. To Slatter, however, the issue centered on whether
AFN could "let the accused part)' control the news." He
wondered "what AFN would have done if the EES had
not issued a statement for four or five days!"(32)

Slatter had been at AFN for only three months. He'd
left his job as news editor at WDSU-TV in New Orleans,
because he wanted to give his family a chance to live in
Europe.{33)

David Mynatt attributed Slatter's charges to a lack of
understanding of the differences between commercial
and military broadcasting. "He's an experienced, capable
newsman and a fine managing editor," Mynatt said. Yet,
he added that Slatter had "not been in Europe long
enough to understand the uniquely sensitive position of a
military-operated news medium in a foreign land." (34)

After Secretary McNamara issued his memorandum
prohibiting "meddling with the news," Colonel Louis
Breault, Chief of Public Affairs at Headquarters,
USAREUR, sought to refute Slatter's contentions.
"Slatter's allegations are ridiculous. If we at Heidelberg
exert any influence over AFN at all it is in the direction of
accuracy and integrity." (35)

Breault didn't challenge Slatter's claims that stories
sometime experienced delays. That, he admitted. Yet, he
contended, "By regulation AFN is not intended to be the
mouthpiece of any command, individual or group,"
suggesting that such delays were normal and accept-
able.(36)

Slatter hadn't realized that a difference existed in AFN
from what he was used to as a newsman in commercial
broadcasting. Instead of being news gatherers, -AFN
journalists acted primarily as reporters and editors of
others' news stories. He "was somewhat surprised and a
little irritated to find out that certain stories couldn't go
on. You had to first in effect, clear them with the Heidel-
berg authorities." To him, this represented a "form of
restriction that I was unfamiliar with in anv other organi-
zation I'd worked for."(37)

Slatter saw stories all around him, "Army life in a
foreign country, and they appeared to me to deserve
some real coverage." While Mynatt did allow him to
initiate some stories and do some interviewing, he had to
clear his plans with his boss and the Commanding Officer ,
of AFN. He recalled that his fellow journalists "were a
little bit nervous about what was going to happen. This
was out of their norm, which was nothing more than
disseminating news from the AP and UPI wire services."
It was the requirement to have his stories reviewed by his

superiors that motivated Slatter's speech at the press
luncheon. (38)

Ironically, AFRTS in Washington wondered why it
took so long for the Armed Forces News Bureau to put
the Slatter story on the air. AFNB had received the story
from UPI at 7:55 pm EDT on October 26. However, the'
story was not broadcast until 1230 AM on the 27th. Then,
AFNB shortwaved a five-minute ABC broadcast that
included about an eight-second story.{39)

An investigation concluded that the original story
"should have been used in part or in it's entirety immedi-
ately. The Chief of AFNB should have monitored this
item more closely because of its nature."(40)

A CALL FOR JUDGMENT BY AFRTS

Secretary McNamara read an account of Slatter's
remarks. His allegations seemed to run counter to
McNamara's May 1 memorandum reiterating that there
should be no restriction on news reaching the troops.
McNamara immediately dispatched two Colonels to AFX
to investigate. Colonel Robert Cranston headed the team.
The two officers found no clear-cut case of censorship but
attributed Slatter's allegations of censorship to faults of
the system rather than attempts to brainwash the troops.
The investigators also produced a set of recommenda-
tions for Secretary McNamara. They intended to insure
that the network would be free to report all the news that
was fit to broadcast.(41)

The degree to which such recommendations or DoD
memorandums succeed in allowing AFRTS stations to
operate unfettered has depended on the stations' ability to
maintain their independence from outside pressures.
With the creation of the three broadcasting services
(Army, Nan' and Air Force), independent from local
control, the broadcasters' jobs have become easier.

Since AFRTS is the sole source of news, information
and entertainment for many troops, it's stations have
manv available sources from which to program a limited
number of hours. This requires judgments by the staff.
Such judgments leave it open to criticism and sometimes
a need to reverse a decision.

When the program "The A-Team" first appeared, the
Broadcast Center decided against acquiring broadcast
rights to it. The staff concluded its violence and comic-
book style wouldn't find a wide audience. When the
program became a hit in the US, AFRTS went ahead and
aired the series. Conversely, the Broadcast Center chose
not to acquire the rights a the three-hour ABC documen-
tary on atomic energy. ABC proposed to broadcast it
along with the 40th anniversary of the use of the first
atomic bombs. Here, AFRTS made another judgment, but
not solely because of subject matter. The program was of
poor quality. It's audience rating in the U. S. was low,

106

and it's three-hour length would have disrupted pro-
gramming schedules.

AFRTS RETAINS ITS CREDIBILITY

From it's early days, AFRTS has been committed to full
news coverage and a total rejection of propaganda. Even
amidst the controversies, AFRTS still provides its audi-
ences with "a little bit of home," the same news and
entertainment they'd receive in the United States. Efforts
continue to correct abuses when they appear. Notwith-
standing, criticisms such as those made by Bill Slatter
usually come from a misunderstanding of the AFRTS
mission rather than a deliberate effort to suppress unfa-
vorable news. What may be most surprising to the
uninitiated is the willingness of AFRTS to include in it's
schedules, programs critical to the military. For instance,
CBS's controversial programs "The Selling of the Penta-
gon" and "Viet Nam: The Uncounted Enemy" went
overseas as a matter of course. So did the ABC antiwar
drama "The Day After."

In the end, AFRTS can't please all members of its
audiences all the time. Military security and sensitivity to
host nations ma}" sometimes force AFRTS to delete certain
programming - even news stories. Nonetheless, over
many years, AFRTS has maintained an extraordinary
credibility for most of its audience.

AFRTS has attracted a steady and significant
"shadow" audience over the years. That accomplishment
may well be the best testament yet to the level of objectiv-
ity and freedom from propaganda with which AFRTS has
operated.

And, it's done it all for more than a half-century.
NOTES - CHAPTER 22

(1) AFVN Audience Opinion-Research and Analysis,
January 1969, p. 56.

(2) Interview with Nick Palladino, November 22, 1985.

(3) Ibid.

(4) Ibid.

(5) Ibid.

(6) Ibid.

(7) Ibid.

(8) Secretary of Defense memorandum. 5ubject Freedom
of Informarion, Mav 1, 1967.

(9) Vie Nrw York Times, October 2, 1969, p 16.

(10) Randall Moody, "Preserving the Image in Viet Nam,"
Freedom of Information Center Report No. 0010,
University of Missouri School of Journalism pamphlet,
August 1979, p 3.

(11) Ibid.

(12) New York Times, December 30, 1969, p 21; January 4,
1970, p 3; January 5, 1970, p 1; Stars and Stripes (Pacific),
Januarv5, 1970, p 6.

(13) Washmgton Post, January 29, 1979, p 15; New York
Times, January 11, 1970, sec IV, p. 5.

(14) IG Report, January 28,1985.

(15) Interview with Colonel David Cole, July 17, 1985.

(17) Cole Interview.

(18) Ibid.

(19) Ibid.

(20) Interview with Robert Eby. Sept. 29, 1982.

(21) Providence Journal, juiy 17, 1971.

(22) Interview with Paul Hanson, December 24, 1983.

(23) Ibid.

(24) Hanson Interview; interview with Admiral David
Coonev, Jan. 10, 1983; Interview with Jordan Ri2er,
Oct. 12,17, 1983.

(25) Interview with John Broger, April 8, 1984; Interview
with Henry Valentino, Feb. 10, 1984; Interview with
Robert Cranston, Sept. 15, 1983.

(26) John Broger to the Library of Congress, Feb. 19, 1975;
Robert McNamara to the Secretaries of the Army,
Navy, and Air Force, Feb. 5, 1963.

(27) Broger interview.

(28) Cranston interview.

(29) John S. Hayes to John Seigenthaler, Nov. 22, 1963.

(30) Leonard Marks to Robert McNamara, n.d.,
March 1967.

(31) Broger to Secretary Morris, March 13, 1967.

(32) Stars and Stripes, Oct. 27, 1967, pp 1, 24.

(33) Interview with William Slatter, Aug 22, 1983.

(34) Stars and Stripes, Oct 28, 1967, pp 1, 24.

(35) Ibid, stories of October 27 and 28. .

(36) Ibid, October 28.

(37) Slatter interview.

(38) Ibid.

(39) AFNB Operations Notice and attachments,
Oct. 27, 1967.

(40) Ibid.

(41) The Oivrscas Weekly, Nov. 12, 1967, p. 5.

1D7

CHAPTER 23

THEAFRTS
BROADCAST CENTER

The 1970s and 1980s brought great changes to AFRTS,
in organization, in programming and in program deliv-
ery. New technology evolved. New chains of command
developed. Yet, it was the program packages, the "pro-
gramming," that remained the heart of the operation.

Without a no doubt, AFRTS enjoyed its greatest period
for creating programming during World War H Yet,
when the fighting stopped, entertainers became less and
less available or willing to appear on AFRS-produced
shows for free. Funding diminished. Without financing,
the reductions in production became inevitable. Radio
service phased out most of its creative activities. Televi-
sion changed directions as well. The AFRTS renamed
their Los Angeles programming arm the "Broadcast
Center" in 1966.

In the early days, the AFRTS Programming Center in
Los Angeles produced and delivered in-house shows like
"Command Performance," "Mail Call" and "Jubilee." By
the 1980s, however, the AFRTS entertainment packages
contained pretty much the same commercial network or
syndicated programming which was available to audi-
ences in the United States. The creativity that did exist in
Hollywood involved the production of programs that
contained informational, educational and patriotic
themes. In other words, those, which justified their
expense.

Over the years, these latter productions also disap-
peared. That left AFRTS radio with only regularly-
produced disc jockey programs like die Charlie Tuna,
Wolfman Jack and the Gene Price show. While some
entertainment production continued in radio, AFRTS
never seriously considered producing its own entertain-
ment shows for TV.

Even though AFRTS divorced itself from the program
production business, the need for state-of-the-art pro-
gramming for both radio and TV continued to be crucial.
A great variety of programming was available from the
commercial networks. Therefore, this effort didn't require
the same type of artistic prowess that produced a "Com-
mand Performance," "The Bill Cosby Show" or even "The
A-Team." For better or worse, that 'look and feel" of
stateside television became a fundamental characteristic
of AFRTS programming. Because it was often the only
game in town, the AFRTS outlets had to program to meet

the needs of a widely diverse audience. These audiences
ranged from senior officers to the youngest enlisted man or
woman, and from generals' spouses to the wives and
children of the enlisted men, all official members of the
AFRTS audience,
That's a significant challenge.

HOW PROGRAMMING REACHES
THE TROOPS

On the television side, AFRTS programmers in the
Broadcast Center select programming from the commercial
networks, e.g., ABC, CBS, FOX and NBC. They also work
with PBS and agreements to air programming also exist
with major cable networks like CNN, ESPN, USA and
others. Favorable agreements also exist with the shows
produced by major "indies," the independent stations. It's
an extraordinary volume of the world's best English-
language offerings in television, and it's what has made
AFRTS so valuable to command and to morale of U. S.
troops. Managing a balanced package of these top-rated
shows along with the necessary command information and
education - "Rosanne" with "Americana" for example -
requires an artistry of its own. No doubt, this includes at
least a thorough knowledge of the complicated business of
prograrnming. While the primary responsibility for
delivering all this good programming rests with the
Broadcast Center, the evolution of what the soldier finally
sees comes from the individual stations. Major influences
come from the audience and from the network's or
station's own programming experience and feedback the
netwrok or station manager's style. For example, rather
than broadcast "CNN News" continously, the station
manager might first emphasize command information
programming. He might follow that with segments of
CNN's production augmenting his own locally-produced
newscast. Then, in the wee hours, the station might rely on
the Broadcast Center's work entirely, figuratively "flipping
the switch" to a straight, unmodified feed at the day's end.
Then they'd switch back to the first station-customized
show the next morning.

Functioning under DoD Directive 512020, the AFRTS
Broadcast Center has the mission of negotiating for,
procuring and distributing radio and television materials.
It also supports the free flow of news, information and
entertainment without censorship, propagandizing or
manipulation. While not formally contained in the mission
statement, the Broadcast Center's job is, of course, to help
overseas Commanders sustain morale and enhance
readiness. By improving their quality of life, AFRTS-BC
contributes to both a more motivated military and higher
retention rates.

As one means of aiding the outlets, the Broadcast Center
continually scouts for new sources of programming, these

108

days that often means from the rapidly growing cable
television industry.

It also seeks rights to movies. Complicating the
problem is the troops' large appetite for movies and the
risque content of today's feature movies. In 1984, the
Broadcast Center distributed more than 400 feature films.
That's more than the average number of Hollywood
releases in a year! At the same time, the film industry
went more toward the production of "R"-rated morion
pictures which AFRTS can't use until the Broadcast
Center has edited them. AFRTS movies must meet
community standards as determined by the commercial
networks and the editors of in-flight movies for airlines.
Because of this trend awav from family entertainment, it
became increasingly difficult for the BC to fill its movie
needs. According to the October 18, 1985, issue of Variety,
more than half (503%) of all films produced between 1968
and 1985 had an "X" or "R" rating.

With the increased demand for programming AFRTS
also had to produce a proportionally greater number of
spot announcements to replace the deleted ads.

The production and procurement of spots became a
DoD-Ievel function. With less than seven hundred
television spots in the inventor)' and more than seven
thousand availabilities to fill each week during 1984,
repetition became unavoidable. DoD began to "farm out"
contracts for more production of internal information
spots. To add emphasis without over-exposure, DoD
assigned "impact values" or weights to the spots it used
According to Colonel David Cole, AFRTS-BC Com-
mander from 1981-1985, "what was needed was a greater
inventory - some of which might come from topical
material produced by local stations."(6)

THE LARGEST RADIO AND TELEVISION NETWORK
IN THE WORLD

To meet this mission, the Broadcast Center (then the
Programming Center) had a staff of ninety -six civilians
and a joint senice force of forty-five military people. In
addition, the Navy provided an eight-man detachment to
support the unique requirements of the Navy, In fiscal
year 19S5, the PC had a budget of S27.9 million. That
enabled AFRTS to reach an audience of over 12 million.
This audience included active duty military personnel,
DoD civilians, and family members in forty-five countries,
fifteen US. territories or possessions, and aboard Navy
ships at sea. By the middle of 1985, AFRTS had become
the largest radio and television network in the world.

A primary target audience for AFRTS is active duty
personnel in the 18-25 year age group. Most have a high
school education. Many are away from home for the first
time and often lack the motivation and money to go off-
base and enjoy the advantages of an overseas assignment.

There is always a temptation for this group to seek relief
from loneliness and boredom in alcohol or drug use. So,
the BC makes a special effort to provide the kind of
programming they like. The aim is that "AFRTS, not
alcohol, will be the after-duty diversion of choice."

THE "SHADOW" AUDIENCE

The AFRTS outlets have always attracted a significant
"shadow" audience. U.S. civilians living abroad and
citizens of host nations listen to or watch the American
prograinming. Some do so as a source of information and
entertainment. Others watch or listen as an aid in
developing an English language capability. Still others do
so out of curiosity about the American life-style. DoD has
never officiallv established a firm count of the non-
American listeners. Yet, a study in japan indicated that
twenty-one percent of the local population - or 25-miUion
people - tuned in to AFRTS radio at least once a week!
The official U S. position has always been that such
"shadow audiences" are spillover. AFRTS has always
considered their viewer- or listener-ship as superfluous to
their objective. Therefore, AFRTS does not program for
the shadow audience. It doesn't even consider it in the
selection of broadcast material Only in a case of host
nation sensitivity does AFRTS ever pay attention to the
foreign listening audience.

The Broadcast Center has always based its decisions
about programs on the DoD audiences. Overseas outlets
periodically conduct audience surveys and send the
results to Los Angeles. The BC maintains contact with
AFRTS network and the station program directors and
talks with senior public affairs officers in the field. They
in turn talk with their commanders. They combine this
information with that of the various rating services (i.e.,
Arbitron, Nielsen, et al) and newspaper and magazine
program reviews. Then, thev determine what material
will go into the programming packages.

When AFRTS has compared these inputs, the results
weren't surprising. The troops abroad still want "a little
bit of home" - the same shows that are popular stateside.
So, the Broadcast Center has accommodated them.
During the 1984-85 tele\ision season, the BC acquired and
distributed 93.4 percent of all network prime-time series
and even' one of the 35 most popular series as ranked by
A.C, Nielsen. In addition, the Center acquired all winners
of the "Alpha" awards for excellence in children's
programming.

AFRTS-BC committed to providing a good representa-
tion of stateside programming, not just the most popular
stuff. During the course of the year, they broadcast all
manner of programming. That included programs of
particular interest to minority groups and even religious
prograrnrning. Often, most of the military audiences

109

abroad had no alternative source of English language
television programming.

In accomplishing its mission, the Broadcast Center
avoids targeting any particular audience segment exclu-
sively. It works instead to provide a cross-section of
material that will have appeal to most, if not all, of its
audience.

The BC's staff does not exclude a program or a series
simply because the subject matter is controversial. It
doesn't shy away from a viewpoint just because it may
differ from that of the current administration in the White
House. It's primary consideration is simple. Has the
program aired in the United States? If people back home
have had an opportunity to see or hear the material, the
personnel overseas should have the same opportunity.

PRIME-TIME PROGRAMMING

Once AFRTS-BC decides to acquire a program or series,
their actual success in obtaining it depends on several
things. One is funding. During 1985, AFRTS had $9.9
million allocated for acquisition and duplication. The
Broadcast Center benefited from the continuing favorable
rates, which the television networks, independent produc-
ers and program distributors have historically granted to
the military. It continued to enjoy a total waiver of fees,
which the broadcast guilds and entertainment unions
impose on commercial broadcasters.

Their efforts, especially in view of the volume and
excellence of their work, are very cost-efficient. For
example, one independent television station in Los Angeles
may pay S120.000 to broadcast a single episode of "Mag-
num P.I." That's for rights within their local area. AFRTS
pays SI, 470 to distribute the same show worldwide. A
major United States network may pay up to S900.000 an
hour for network-wide use of a popular show. AFRTS still
pays only $1,470.

Despite this cooperation by it's program sources, AFRTS
has at times experienced delays in acquiring materials
because commercial distributors wanted first to market
their programs and movies overseas. U.S. nations where a
local television system is compatible with the AFRTS and
broadcast standard (NTSC), the distributor has often
restricted particular programs until it could exploit the
commercial value of the program. The most recent restric-
tion problems of this nature occurred in Panama and
Korea. To compensate, the AFRTS Broadcast Center sent
special supplemental programming to these networks to
help offset the loss in their weekly program packages.

EIGHT CENTS ON THE DOLLAR

About 63 percent of AFRTS programming comes from
the commercial networks. It consists primarily of news and
sports. Except for an annual administrative cost clearing

i individual programs, AFRTS-BC receives these programs
for free. The balance of the programming comes from the
distributors and producers who market most of the
entertainment, and some of the sports programming, in
the United States. AFRTS pays a standard rate for most of
these programs. Conservative estimates place the value
of television programs AFRTS distributed during 1984 at
more than S117 million when compared with regional
market rates. The Broadcast Center spent S9.9 million,
including duplication costs, or about 8-1 /2 cents on the
dollar. The cost per potential AFRTS audience member
works out to 69 cents a month for the best television
.America has to offer.

Despite its success in obtaining programming, AFRTS
receives occasional complaints about the type and quality
of if s offerings. Just as not all viewers back home like
every network program or agree with all viewpoints
expressed, not all members of the overseas military
audience will like everything they see and hear.

AVOIDING CENSORSHIP

While seeking to upgrade the quality of it's material,
AFRTS continues to offer shows which viewers in the
United States prefer. Only by having an audience tuned-
in can AFHTS fulfill its aim of providing information
messages. The Broadcast Center applies industry-wide
criteria and "Standards and Practices" along with obvious
good taste in choosing and scheduling programs. Even
so, some in the AFRTS audience can occasionally find
some of the programs "offensive." This is unavoidable if
AFRTS is going to provide a true cross-section of popular
programs. It also certifies AFRTS' tradition of credibility
with the audience.

While carefully avoiding the role of censor, the Broad-
cast Center prints program advisories to stations as an aid
in placing shows on local schedules. The BC flags violent
and mature material to alert program directors about
where they should schedule such shows.(3}

DELIVERING THE ENORMOUS VOLUME OF
PROGRAMMING

In 19S5, AFRTS provided prograrriming to 88 land-
based AM/FM radio stations and 35 land-based televi-
sion outlets. It served more than 450 shipboard radio
facilities, more than 500 shipboard television closed-
circuit operations and more than 250 mini-television sites.
In addition, the Broadcast Center operated a 24-hour
radio and television service for news and special events
via satellite and shortwave. For radio, Los Angeles
weekly provided 80 hours of material on disks in the AM
package and 14 hours in an alternative FM tape music
package. The BC also sent out six hours of library' music
each week for disk jockeys to use on their local radio

no

shows. They distributed nearly 50 hours of holiday
programming annually to help local outlets produce their
own material In cooperation with the Navy detachment,
the Broadcast Center also sent out 84 radio hours each
week on tape to support ships at sea.

During the same year, for television audiences, the
Broadcast Center distributed approximately 80 hours of
material on video cassettes each week to 17 circuits
around the world. The package of non- tune-sensitive
material included weekly series, mini-series and made-
for-television and theatrical movies. The cost of duplica-
tion made it necessary to "bicycle" the packages. After
each station used it, the package, it would send it to the
next In areas where the audience included military
families, the BC also provided a family-oriented package.
They sent 12 hours of timely material on video cassette
every week to each non-SATNET outlet. This special
package included perishable entertainment programs,
sporting events, and news and information specials
normally only available to SATNET outlets.

DELIVERING TO REMOTE-AREA TROOPS
AND NAVY SHIPS

For the 430 mini-TV outlets located at remote sites with
small audiences, the BC provided up to 40 hours of
entertainment programming. They also provided four
additional hours of news and sports programming per
week, directly to each mini-TV outlet. The outlets
received their videotape machines and TV receivers
directly from the military broadcasting services.

Until 1983, the Broadcast Center sent out more than 50
satellite "occasional use" live events each year to all major
locations. They sent them to Italy, Germany and Spain,
which were not yet in the 24-hour AFRT5 satellite
network (SATNET). Hie programs included such things
as the Tournament of Roses Parade, the Super Bowl,
World Series, and space shuttle launchings and landings.
During 1983, as SATNET expanded 24-hour satellite
support into Korea, Panama, Phillipines and other
locations. The newly-renamed Broadcast Center ended
the occasional-use satellite era.

AFRTS and the Naw Broadcasting Service (NBS) also
began making additional use of the satellite network,
NBS established land-based facilities to duplicate time-
sensitive news and sports for distribution to ships. They
located one on the island of Diego Garcia in the Indian
Ocean and a second at Sigonella in Italy. From these
facilities, they ferry the programs to the battle group
aircraft carriers. From mere, Navy helicopters fly the
programs in cassette form to the smaller ships. This is a
daily activity. After use, the ships return the tapes to the
duplication facility for reuse.(l)

In 1983, the Navy Broadcasting Service began develop-

ing technology to put earth stations aboard large ships
such as aircraft carriers and battleships. In a test aboard

the USS RANGER in late 1983, the satellite tracking
system worked well as the ship sailed from San Diego to
Bremmerton, Washington. The technology was success-
ful as long as the ships were within range of the domestic
satellite. However, the NBS continued to work on
overcoming the problems of routine shipboard electronic
interference in receiving an acceptable signal from
international satellites.(2) Steel ships with sophisticated
electkronics and radar make lousy television environ-
ments.

AFRTS' mission of providing real time programming
for SATNET and distribution of the entertainment
package remained an enormous job. In 1985, the BC
handled over a quarter-million video cassettes, 300,000
audio disks and 115,000 audio tapes - all shipped in more
than 120,000 containers. These materials and the 24-hour
daily satellite transmission enabled AFRTS to provide
more than 36,000 hours of programming service during
the year. The Broadcast Center had a staff of less than
150 employees to do all this work.

DELIVERY BY SATELLITE (SATNET)

Preparing entertainment packages and delivering them
through normal mail channels is only part of the Broad-
cast Center's job. The arrival of SATNET has created the
delivery of a 24-hour-a-day operation with news, infor-
mation, sports and time sensitive entertainment. The
satellite delivers this programming every day to world-
wide audiences. SATNET had its official origins in a
charter the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Public
Affairs issued in October, 1978. It instructed the Ameri-
can Forces Information Service to proceed with the
planning of a worldwide AFRTS satellite network.

AFRTS developed a feasibility plan. Then it issued a
contract to Future Systems of Gaithersburg, Maryland, to
provide a technical review of the proposed svstem. In
January, 1979, Future Systems delivered its findings. It
concluded that the satellite network idea was technically
sound. AFRTS contracted with the Electromagnetic
Compatibility Analysis Center of Annapolis, Maryland, to
study prospective earth station sites in the Pacific, Euro-
pean, Atlantic, and Southern Command areas.(4)

Just as armed forces broadcasting evolved from
beginnings in Alaska in 1942, Phase I of the new satellite
plan began at four sites in Alaska. They began on a test
basis in December, 1978. The Alaskan Forces Satellite
Network (AFSN) delivered programming from
Elmendorf Air Force Base to the isolated facilities at Adak,
Galena, King Salmon and Shemya. In January, 1979,
AFSN went to a full-time operation. It telecast twelve
hours a day and continued its broadcasting until April,

I

•1982, when, the commercial Alaska State "BUSH" TV
Satellite System became operational and took over the
television service.

THE SOUTHERN COMMAND NETWORK

Panama is another location of pioneers in armed forces
broadcasting. Phase I did not include it But here, too,
history repeated itself. The Southern Command Network
(SCN) undertook construction of a satellite earth station at
the end of 1978, thirty-eight years after the soldiers' first
broadcast there. They expedited their modem-day efforts
so that the facility would be in place quickly. They sought
to avoid restrictions that might be imposed under terms
of the new Panama Canal Zone Treat)*, which was under
negotiation. Meanwhile, during Phase H of the Satellite
Network plan, the Broadcast Center leased a full-time
dedicated uplink so that it could begin direct, full-time
satellite transmission of its broadcasts. SCN completed
the Panama earth station in April, 1979. The Southern
Command Network (SCN) began full-rime satellite
service in August of mat year using a domestic satellite
transponder to deliver the AFSN signal AFRTS in Los
Angeles began to deliver their service in early 1982. This
service provided programming for American Forces at
Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, and Roosevelt Roads, Puerto
Rico, using the same commercial satellite that was
servicing Panama.

Phase HI of the plan concerned itself with the establish-
ment of the international portion of the satellite network.
In December, 1982, the Atlantic satellite came into service.
Its signal reached from Iceland to Diego Garcia in the
Indian Ocean Diego Garcia came on-line at once.
Kefiavik in Iceland began receiving programming in
April, 1983, Lajes Field in the Azores in November, 1983,
AFN in February, 1984, and Italy in July, 19S5. Bermuda
began service from the domestic satellite in February,
19S5.

In the Pacific, AFRTS tested its transponder and began
service in the fall of 1983. Korea joined SATNET in
October. FEN at Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines
came on-line in January, 1984. Service began on a iest
basis in Okinawa and in Japan in the fall of 1985.

During 1985, negotiations continued with the govern-
ments of Spain and Turkey to allow satellite service. In
Turkey, AFRTS developed plans to create a full network
reaching all the United States military bases, however
small their contingents. Bv the middle of 1986, most land-
based, full-service networks and outlets were able to
receive SATNET full-time.

As the SATNET system expanded, more and more
stations went on line, and AFRTS decided to move from
"occasional use" to transmitting material on a 24-hour-a-
day basis with its real rime capabilities. The Broadcast

Center had to resolve whether it should use SATNET to
distribute the package in order to save costs of duplicat-
ing and mail service.

Such a method of operation would have also insured
that each AFRTS facility would be broadcasting the same
shows at approximately the same time. However,
analysis showed that using the satellite in such a way
would not be cost-effective. It would have to provide
additional recording equipment and extra staff at each
facility. This would have also meant less rime available
on the satellite for transmission of news and other time-
sensitive material. Finally, sending out the copyrighted
entertainment package by satellite would have opened
the possibility of having the material pirated. That was a
major concern of producers who provide the shows to
AFRTS. Also programs would still need to be duplicated
on tape for ships and mini-TV sites.

Ultimately, AFRTS decided to use SATNET primarily
to deliver news, sports and other time-sensitive program-
ming. SATNET also gave the Broadcast Center the ability
to pass entire Secretary of Defense and Presidential news
conferences overseas Hve or with minimum delay. As a
rule, the commercial networks excerpt only a few ideas or
statements from 5ECDEF conferences and they may not
be the information of greatest interest to military audi-
ences. By transmitting entire press conferences on a
"short-fuse," tape-delay" basis, AFRTS gave overseas
outlets the chance to view the complete press conference-
Outlet news departments could then have the opportu-
nity to excerpt portions of the questions and answers that
might be of special interest to the military viewers.(5)

Despite the great advantages which SATNET offers to
the Broadcast Center, its 24-hour-a-day operation has
presented significant scheduling problems. Through the
end of 1985, the BC was able to feed only 17-hours a day
of decommercialized programming and DoD internal
information spots. During the remaining seven hours,
the BC provided a "dirty" (straight) feed taken directiy
from the CNN. This portion of the transmission schedule
is a totally hands-off operation. There is no attempt to
assist the field by removing commercials and inserting
spots. According to Colonel Cole, the inability to provide
decommercialized service 24-hours-a-day remained his
"greatest disappointment" in developing the SATNET
schedule.

A work-force study of the satellite operation con-
cluded that it would take sixteen staff members in the
Broadcast Center to expand decommercialized SATNET
service to 24-hours-a-day. The increase in manpower
would use the additional seven hours to provide more
specialized service and programs from a variety of
sources. These included specific sports events and news
conferences. It would allow Broadcast Center to adjust its

programming more to the various overseas time zones.
To Colonel Cole, this increase in service would be a vast
improvement over the 1985 network. To simply feed
seven straight hours of CNN daily, seems quite repetitive.
Moreover, the change would save the overseas outlets
from having to "decommercialize" the seven hours of
material.

Whatever its immediate shortcomings, the improved
service which SATNET provides helps AFRTS work
toward its goal of holding audience interest This comes
at a time when the local outlets are no longer the only
source of after-hour entertainment. Colonel Cole believes
that, "If we lose the audience we'll be unable to accom-
plish our information mission."

Despite such problems, the Broadcast Center has
continued the mission and traditions begun with AFRS
during World War D., fifty vears ago. Today, delivery of
armed forces broadcasting is an enormous job. As might
be expected, the arrival of television, and more recently of
SATNET, created a proportional shortage of working
space. BC facilities, in the heart of Hollywood on
McCadden Place, were already overcrowded.

So, in 1984, after years of searching for a suitable
replacement, the Broadcast Center began to move into
new facilities in the Los Angeles' San Fernando Valley.
The)' completed the move in November 1986. In the new

spaces, the staff could more easily serve the needs of their
audience.

By the late 1980s, AFRTS became a symbol of the
decade's achievements in new and high technology. The
Army, Navy and Air Force all refined their broadcasting
operations.

All that would be needed as the American military
continued to serve in it's role as peacekeeper in the
international community. That was particularly true in
the Middle East and in Central America.

NOTES - CHAPTER 23

(1) Interview with Roger Mavnard, December 9, 1985.

(2) Ibid.

(3) Interview with Colonel David Cole, July 26, 1985;
Briefing Paper which Colonel Cole presented to the
United States Air Forces Europe, (USAFE) Command-
ers Conference at Ramstein Air Base, Germany,

June 13,1984, on the operation of AFRTS-BC.'

(4) Ibid; Interview with Lieutenant Colonel Lawrence
Pollack, October 25, 1983.

(5) Ibid; Coie interview.

(6) Interview with Colonel Cole and June 13, 1984,
briefing presentation on operation of AFRTS-BC.

113

CHAPTER 24

THE MILITARY
BROADCASTING
SERVICES

Whatever if s problems, the Broadcast Center has
continued to produce outstanding programming to fill
broadcast schedules of AFRTS outlets around the world.
While during World War II, the BC both set the policy
and provided the packages, today the Broadcast Center
has little input into field operations. Since the late 1940s,
various agencies in the Department of [Defense and in the
individual Services have handled policy matters, funding
and field procedures.

Until the mid-1970s, Pentagon officials generally
established regulations and defined areas of responsibility
for each Service. In 1962, Congress started pressing for a
consolidation of operations. The Army, for example,
managed AFN and the Blue Danube Network during its
existence. Later, it ran the Italian operation, Panama,
AFKN and AFVN. The Air Force ran Alaska, FEN,
independent stations on air bases and, initially, all the
television operations. The Navy took over Rota, Spain,
from the Air Force and managed the Caribbean basin,
various stations in Iceland and Australia and of course,
the facilities aboard ships. The public affairs offices of
each Service provided the personnel to man stations in
their spheres of interest. The local commands provided
the funds.

NAVY BROADCASTING SERVICE

Problems could easily arise in such a divided chain of
command. Still, it wasn't until the mid-1970s that efforts
began toward a more efficient operation between the
Services and the field. On July 1, 1976, the Secretary of
the Navy established the Navy Broadcasting Service. It's
mission statement set forth a new format, which was later
to become the model for the other Armed Services.

The NBS assumed responsibility for operating and
maintaining all AFRTS outlets under Navy jurisdiction. It
established new outlets "as necessary to provide Navy
internal audiences in remote and isolated locations with
entertainment programming via radio and television
broadcast." It established policy and served as the
primary liaison with the Department of Defense, other
government agencies and the civilian broadcast industry

for Navy AFRTS matters. The Service also negotiated
support agreements for the joint-Service manning of
AFRTS outlets. It represented the Navy during negotia-
tions for overseas broadcast rights and frequency assign-
ments. And, it sponsored the acquisition of shipboard
systems and supported the Fleet Commanders in their
administration.

During the late 1950s and early 1960s, the Navy
gradually decided that radio and television should
assume a more prominent role. Until 1966, a section of
the Navy's Morale and Welfare Branch of the Bureau of
Naval Personnel handled broadcast matters. However,
Navy's Chief of Information had the responsibility for
directing the Service's AFRTS operations. To handle
broadcast, the Navy assigned an officer to CHINFO's
Internal Information Branch.

During 1970 and 1971, CHINFO conducted Navy-wide
studies regarding the use of broadcast media. The survey
concluded that the service was ineffective and far behind
the other Armed Services in the use of the media.

JORDAN RIZER

In 1971, the Navy hired broadcast pioneer Jordan E.
Rizer, a retired Air Force Lieutenant Colonel, to run the
Navy's AFRTS. His Air Force experience had included
tours of duty at AFN and with the 7122nd Broadcast
Squadron. In his last assignment, Rizer headed the
Service's AFRTS activities. While in this position, he
helped design the mobile television vans that the Air
Force sent to Thailand (see Chapter 21).(1)

While supporting the Navy's AFRTS land-based
operations, Rizer's primary mission from 1972 to 1977
was to place closed-circuit television systems on board all
surface ships with crews of 350 or more. The program
excluded aircraft carriers since they already had informa-
tion and entertainment television systems onboard.
During these five years, the Navy manufactured, as-
sembled and installed some 140 of these austere television
systems. As they completed each one, the ship became an
affiliate of AFRTS. When it deployed, it began receiving
approximately sixty hours of broadcast material a week
via one of the Navy's programming circuits. The "SITE"
(Shipboard Information, Training and Entertainment)
system could provide programs from one of four different
sources; a live camera, 16mm film, 35mm slides, or 1"
videotape. (2)

As installation of the SITE Systems progressed, Rizer's
staff turned to the development of a smaller prototype
SITE Svstem suitable for ships with a complement of less
than 350. The Navy placed the first Mira-SITE aboard the
USS MILLER for testing in December, 1974.

The Navy installed the first four working models of the
Mmi-SITE System in February, 1979, onboard fast frigates

home-ported in Yokosuka, Japan. Installation of produc-
tion model Mini-SITE Systems finally began in October of
that year. Meanwhile, the Navy developed and installed
a smaller version of Mini-SITE System, called Sub-SITE,
aboard the nuclear submarine USS LEWIS AND CLARK
for testing in May, 2976. Production models began to be
installed in February, 1980-

_ In 1979, the NBS began to replace the original SITE 1
Systems with SITE 2 Systems, which contained the same
state-of-the-art equipment as the smaller versions. The
newer version used the recently marketed one-half-inch
Sony Beta VCR videotape recorder that the Nan' had
subjected to a long shipboard testing.

Meanwhile, Jordan Rizer took steps to protect the
Navy's AFRTS assets at overseas shore locations from
budgetary and manpower cuts. In 1972, he transferred all
assets from local and fleet commanders to his office - the
Chief of Navy Broadcasting. For most of his tour, the
Navy assigned Rizer to the Navy Internal Relations
Activity (NIRA) which it established his office as a CNO
field activity to "more adequately fulfill the Navy's
internal information mission."

When the Navy Broadcasting Service began in 1976,
Rizer became its Director. His office assumed the admin-
istrative services, which the NIRA had previously
rendered for Navy Broadcasting. In this new organiza-
tion, the Navy Broadcasting Service had complete control
over personnel, funding and equipment It could operate,
at least in theory, without interference from local and
theater cornmanders.{3)

The Navy Broadcasting Service became the model for
Congress and the other Armed Services of how their
AFRTS operations should be handled. As a result,
Congress directed the Army and Air Force to centralize
management control of their AFRTS assets. It sought to
avoid unnecessary duplication of management functions
and operate more efficiently.

DoD has probably studied AFRTS as much as any
other program, with an average of one major study a year
for each of the last three decades. These studies concen-
trated on various program areas or geographic regions.
They employed a variety of personnel from within and
outside of government. They reached varying, even
conflicting conclusions. Despite this disparity, the studies
all had one common thread. Each found that the AFRTS
management as a whole needed organizational streamlin-
ing and a more cohesive and coordinated structure.
Nevertheless, little agreement could be reached among
the DoD components about what corrective steps should
be taken.

During these years, Congress maintained an active
interest in AFRTS and its management problems. During
the late 1970s, both the Senate and the House of Represen-

tatives became increasingly disturbed with what several
members considered "the Pentagon's failure to take
decisive corrective action/'

In its report on the FY 1980 Defense Department
budget, Congress again voiced this criticism in no
uncertain terms. Again, it recommended a consolidation
of all AFRTS operations.

At the same time, the Assistant Secretary of Defense for
Public Affairs (ASD(PA)) expressed his concern about the
management of AFRTS, which functionally belonged to
him. He directed the Deputy Assistant Secretary of
Defense for Acurunistration to undertake a joint studv and
make specific reorganization proposals. The study, '
completed in late 1979, conveyed to the Deputy Secretary
of Defense with comments from the Miliary Departments.
The Secretary showed extensive personal interest in the
issues and alternatives raised in the study. He discussed
them with Secretary' of the Army Alexander, Secretary of
the Navy Hidalgo and Secretary of the Air Force Mark

On March 4, 1980, the Deputy Secretary issued a
decision memorandum. It directed the reorganization of
AFRTS to achieve two mutually supportive goals. First,
the new organization would pro\ide strengthened policy
development, resource management and program
oversight functions by the Assistant Secretary of Defense
for Public Affairs. Second, it would streamline opera-
tional control of AFRTS activities within each of the
Military- Departments.

The reorganization had several essential features. The
Deputy Secretary directed the Secretaries of the Military-
Departments to continue to operate designated AFRTS'
outlets. He also directed that they consolidate manage-
ment and operating control in a single staff. Thev were to
ensure that these new staffs received sufficient personnel
and resources to do their jobs effectively. TTie Deputy
Secretary directed the Assistant Secretary of Defense for
Public Affairs to continue to develop and issue AFRTS
policy. The ASD(PA) delegated the task to the American
Forces Information Service (AFIS), where it remains today
(Directed by Jordan Rizer). AFIS also would provide core
broadcast programming for AFRTS stations and program
management, department-wide, for all it's activities.

The last function introduced a new dimension in
AFRTS management. As Program Manager, the
ASD(PA), acting through the Director, AFIS, now exer-
cised several new responsibilities. He approved, disap-
proved or directed the establishment of new stations. He
directed the closing of existing stations and the configura-
tion of broadcast networks. He had input in the selection
of network commanders. He developed an equipment
standardization program and certified equipment for use
in the AFRTS system. He also developed training criteria
and objectives for personnel. Finally, he had control of

115

overall AFRTS fiscal and manpower resources.

The Deputy Secretary of Defense established three
milestones. First, he directed the immediate
developement of a Charter tor AFRTS. Second, the
Secretaries of the Military Departments were to develop
plans for control of AFRTS activities in their respective
Departments. Finally. AFIS and the Military Departments
were to carry out the AFRTS changes.

The AFIS charter developed with the publication of
DoD Directive 5122.10, dated March 19, 1980. The
Directive defined the mission, functions, authorities and
relationships of AFIS in both print and broadcast. It
established an Armed Forces Information Council (AF1C)
to serve as a Joint-Service Policy Committee reporting to
the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Public Affairs. This
Committee included a chairperson representing the
ASD(PA), one representative from each of the Military
Departments, a representative from AFIS and an Execu-
tive Secretary.

The AFIC has two functions. First, it considers ques-
tions of policy and advises the Assistant Secretary of
Defense for Public Affairs on matters of internal informa-
tion and ideas among the membership. While the
Committee's not a new idea, it does formalize a coordi-
nating mechanism, which can improve communication
and cooperation within the AF15 and AFRTS family.{4)

ARMY BROADCASTING SERVICE

To effect the reorganization directive, the Army
established the Army Broadcasting Service (ABS) on
March 4, 19S0. It assumed the responsibility for manage-
ment of AFN, the Southern European Broadcasting
Service (Italy), SCK Panama, AFKN Korea and the
Marshall Islands. The ABS also assumed control of Mini-
TV-Sites in Central Europe and Italy.

The ABS became a field operating agency of the
Army's Public Affairs Office, commanded by a bird
Colonel who reported directly to the Deputy Chief of
Public Affairs. The Army Broadcasting Sen-ice officially
began operations October 1, 1930, with Colonel Felix
Casipit as its first Director.

Casipit expanded opera tions-and upgraded equipment
and service at all facilities under his command. ABS
brought Mini-TV to .American Forces in Bonn, West
Germany and TV service to SHAPE in Belgium. It
established new microwave links within Korea and
upgraded antiquated transmission equipment in both
Korea and Europe. It assumed responsibility of the
Navy's AFRTS functions in Italy and brought Mini-TV
service to DoD personnel serving with the Multi-National
Peacekeeping Force in the Sinai. In a joint action, the
Southern European Broadcasting Service at Sigonella
videotaped the AFRTS news and information programs

and shipped them to U.S. personnel serving in the Sinai.

Perhaps the most significant accomplishment of its
early years was ABS' success in turning the Southern
European Broadcasting (SEB) Service into a functioning
network. Although radio outlets in Italy had unofficially
radiated their signals for many years. TV programs could
only transmit over cable on military bases or in rec
centers. Large numbers of DoD personnel living off-base
couldn't receive AFRTS television prograrnming. After
several vears of negotiations with the Italian government,
the United States reached an agreement in 1983 that
authorized AFRTS to broadcast over the air to DoD
personnel. The on-air television service began in early
1985. It provided programming to U.S. bases and sur-
rounding housing areas in Aviano, Vicenza, Livomo,
I Naples, Gaeta, San Vito, Sigonella, LaMaddalena and the
Air Force facility at Comiso. The U. S. also obtained an
agreement in 1983 to install five AFRTS satellite earth
stations in Italy to enable SEB to receive SATNET trans-
missions. (5)

AIR FORCE BROADCASTING SERVICE

Following DoD directives and the example of the
Navy, the Air Force created its Broadcasting Service on
October 1, 1980. Unlike the Army and the Navy, which
are located in Washington close to the chain of command,
the Air Force established its Broadcasting Service (AFBS)
at Kelly AFB, Texas. It manages AFRTS activities in
Turkey, Greece, Spain, the Middle East, the Azores,
Alaska, Japan and some isolated locations in Western
Europe. AFBS took responsibility for mini-TV in Europe,
Middle East, Africa, and the Far East.

While it's mission is the same as its sister services, there
is one basic difference. In the Air Force, there are three
squadrons between the AFBS and their stations.

The Army and Navy Broadcasting Services created a
chain of command that went directly from the director of
the service to the station or network commander in the
field. While their goal was to remove the local commands
from interference with the AFRTS outlets, the achieve-
ment of this didn't happen overnight. The Army Broad-
casting Service didn't officially take complete control of
all its networks until October 1, 1981 Only then did
personnel serving at Army AFRTS stations cease to be
part of the local commands and become part of the Office
of the Secretary of the Army.{6)

Until that date in '82 - more than 39 years after it began
broadcasting in London during World War II • American
. Forces Network had remained virtually autonomous
from AFRTS' control. While nominally under the control
of the United States European Command (except for
funding), AFN managed to function as an independent
organization. It received little interference or even

supervision from military authorities until the ABS finally
absorbed the network into it's organizational structure.

AFN remained a radio-only operation into the 1970s
because its longtime civilian management feared the new
and unknown medium of television.

Once Secretary of the Army Robert Froehlke started
the process of bringing television to AFN in 1971, the
Army energized Project J7 (Scope Picture). It quickly
began providing television to U.S. Forces in Germanv.
The effort required the contribution of several disparate
military groups including USAREUR, US. Army Com-
munications Command, 5th Signal Command, U.S. Army
Television- Audio Support Activity and, of course, AFN.

The Commander-in-Chief, USAREUR, General
Michael Davison, still exercised authority over AFN. He
gave first priority for providing television to the troops in
more isolated forward areas. Next on the list were non-
headquarters units away from major population areas.
Headquarters in large cities got lowest priority. The Air
Force controlled the first two phases of the operations
because it remained the numerically dominant recipient
of the service. The Army then assumed responsibility for
the third phase of the completed network when it became
the major receiving service.

This transfer of control occurred in Julv, 1973, as AFN
was celebrating its thirtieth birthday, when the Air Force
finished Phase n of the Scope Pictures expansion. It had
completed 46 television transmitters and 64 microwave
links, providing black-and-white service to forty-one
percent of the American Forces in Germany.

Engineering for the Army Phase ID installations faced a
"normal" AFRTS overseas problem. It had to limit its
signal as much as possible to DoD audiences to avoid
interfering with possible sales of US. programs to
German TV networks.

In August, 1973, U5AREUR directed that all AFN
television facilities become color-capable. Phase III
installations presented no problems since their design
would accept a color signal. However, the equipment
already in place had to be upgraded during the next three
years to meet the new directive.

Meanwhile, the Air Force operation continued to
originate from those rather primitive studios at Ramstein
Air Force Base near Kaiserslautern. The system transmit-
ted in black and white only in the European PAL format.
That caused a whole lot of problems. Nearly thirty-five
percent of the programming furnished by AFRTS-LA
couldn't be aired because of conflicts with the broadcast
rights of the Germans. Americans who brought their
television set with them from the US. couldn't receive the
television picture without modifying them to the Euro-
pean system. Even if DoD personnel bought PAL format
sets in Europe, they'd soon become obsolete as soon as

I .AFN went on line using the -American NTSC system!
Despite the problems, AFN completed Phase III in

October, 1976. It spent more than a year building a color
television complex in Frankfurt. No one who built those

j old studios after WWIIever gave thought to the possibility
that AFN might one day include TV. At Midnight on '

, October 27, 1976 the last reel of black and white film ran

; through its antiquated projector at Ramstein. Fifth Signal
Command crews then began the job of reversing the
miaowave paths so the network could feed from Frank-

1 furt instead of to it At noon the next day, AFN Com-
mander Lieutenant Colonel Hoyd McBride and
USAREUR Chief of Staff Major 'General Dean Tice
uncapped a television camera. AFN television went on
the air, in color.

Because the color signal was in the American XTSC
standard, it pioneered the dropping of all restrictions on
program usage and the broadcasting of the entire .AFRTS
entertainment package. The assumption of its television
mission spurred a period of unparalleled activity for
AFN. By the mid-1960s, it had created a network that
offers professional-level quality of service both on radio
and television.

PROFESSIONAL STAFFS
THE KEY INGREDIENT

Technological achievements, the state of the art
equipment and the best programs count for little by
themselves. In the end, the success of AFN and of all the
AFRTS networks and independent stations, depends on
the caliber of the broadcast staffs. It emanates from their
ability* to put the program on the air with the highest
quality of service.

For most of its existence, AFN, as well as the other
AFRTS networks and outlets, had few problems staffing
their facilities. As their reputation grew after World War
n. soldiers with professional broadcasting experience who
went overseas, were usually able to transfer into AFRTS.
In 1973, however, when the draft ended, AFRTS, for the
first time, faced the same staffing problems that other
military organizations had to solve over the years. That
is, to find competent professionals to operate the equip-
ment and man the microphones.

THE DEFENSE INFORMATION
(BROADCASTING) SCHOOL

Their answer was the Defense Information School
1 (DINFOS) of Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana. Originally
located at Fort Slocum, the broadcasting school had
become part of DINFOS in 1973. It provided military
broadcasters with the basic tools needed for entry-level
positions at AFRTS outlets. There, they would then gain
additional experience from on-the-job training. The

117

school teaches a range of broadcast subjects from the basic
essentials of radio and television studio operations to the
methods of electronic journalism. The courses emphasize
proper voice and diction techniques and how to select
news items, sports, feature materials and music. Broad-
cast managers receive advanced instruction with a variety
of courses on unit administration, management and
technical training.

These are the broadcasters who enable AFRTS to
continue the early traditions pioneered in Panama,
Alaska, Casablanca, and London during World War II.
These same professionals are those who have continued
the traditions in both peacetime and in combat in Korea
and Viet Nam.

AFRTS staffers across the years agree. The challenge of
their work and the sometimes difficult settings in which
they had to do it, provided them with enjoyable military
careers. That's true, whether those careers were short or
long term.

Even after the F-4 Phantom jet crashed into his station
at Udom, Gary Sumrall observed, "We're all support
people.

"We're behind the lines and behind our troops."
NOTES - CHAPTER 24

(1) Command History of the Nan- Broadcasting Service,
March 14, 1980; Interviews with Jordan Rizer,
October 19S3.

(2) Ibid.

(3) Ibid; Interview with Admiral David Cooney,
January 10, 1984.

(4) AFRTS briefing to the Annual AFRTS Workshop,
April 18, 1980.

(5) Army Broadcasting Service History, March 1980 -
October 1983, n.d.; Interview with Colonel

Felix Casipit, January 12,1984.

(6) Army Broadcasting Service History.

CHAPTER 25

NEW CONTINGENCY
MISSIONS

By October, 1982, it became apparent that a United
States presence would be required in Lebanon for longer
than expected. The Marines requested that the Navy
Broadcasting Service send in one of its Mini-SfTE systems.
Rizer's office agreed. It also offered to provide its proto-
type mobile station that it had put together at the request
of AF1S to support the Rapid Deployment Forces. After a
brief discussion, the Marine Command in Beruit made a
formal request to bring the stations overseas.

John Burlage, who served as Rizer's second Command
Master Chief at the Navy Broadcasting Service, helped
staff the mobile detachments sent to Beruit. He served as
station manager himself. He described that station as
both evolutionary and revolutionary in its use of state-of-
the-art equipment. Lieutenant Robert Nash also had
helped put the first station together and then commanded
the first wave to go in to Lebanon. He recalled that the
AFRS mobile vans that operated during World War II and .
Korea were pretty cumbersome. It took a long time to get
them installed and on the air. In contrast, Jordan Rizer's
Navy mobile broadcast studio could fit into a C-130
aircraft, fit onto a forklift and be on the air in a couple of
hours.

With the Marines' request in hand, Lt. Nash and his
five-man NBS detachment moved the station by truck
from Arlington to Norfolk. From there, it flew by C-141
to Italy and then by C-130 to Beirut. Once there, the unit
put the station on a fork lift. Then they drove it to the
Marine headquarters compound, a couple of hundred
yards up the hill from the international airport. The
Lebanese government had given permission for the
station to go on the air. The only problem was getting the
AFRTS shortwave signal into Beirut to provide the news
and sports. Until thev could make arrangements to bring
in the AFRTS radio feed via satellite, land lines, or
undersea cable, the staff did the next best thing. It went
into town and obtained newscopy from the local AP
office.

The radio station went on the air ten hours after the
detachment arrived on December 15th. It began a regular
broadcast schedule from 6:00 AM until Midnight with the
AFRTS package, news and sports. On the television side,
the Mini-SITE system initially amounted to some play-
back machines and monitors that AFRTS moved to the

Marine units. As a result, Nash's unit studied the feasibil-
ity of transrnitting television signals to the men from a
central location. It took until the beginning of May to
obtain permission from the government to radiate and
bring in the low-powered transmitters. Broadcasts could
only reach within the Marine Perimeter. They carried the
AFRTS entertainment package, live locally-produced
television news and occasional interviews with visiting
officials.

During the first detachment's tour in Lebanon, which
lasted just over four months, the Marines' main enemv
was the dreariness of their duties, the climate and the dirt.
Instead of their traditional deployment as a reacting force
that went in, did its job and left, the Marines found
themselves in primarily a passive role. In such a circum-
stance, AFRTS' radio and television went a long way to
relieving the boredom and frustrations.(l)

The uncertainty didn't change much until the fourth
wave went into Lebanon on July 5, 19S3. Burlage recalled
that when he went to Lebanon, he didn't expect to find
himself in a dangerous assignment

"Admittedly, no. When we went over there, while it
was no game, it was more of a chance to get over there
and do good things for the troops and maybe live under
some rigorous conditions. Under no stretch of the
imagination did we think we'd become the enemy!"

From that time until November, when the fifth and last
wave of broadcasters left following the infamous truck
bomb attack on the Marine compound, the war status
deteriorated. The news, entertainment, and most impor-
tant, command information, became crucial.

AFRTS STAFFERS SERVE
IN LEBANON

Burlage summarized the value of the stations in
recounting one brief moment following a mortar attack
that wounded some men with shrapnel. Although at
least one round hit within fifty yards of the station, radio
and TV stayed on the air. Taking a break, Burlage
watched as some walking wounded passed the station
compound on their way to be evacuated to the hospital
ship. The men were "beat to hell, in very rough shape.
The\' were being led by a few friends. As the)' walked by,
I'll never forget it, we stood up and looked at them. They
stopped and came up to our fence. One of them said, 1
just want to thank you guys for what you've been doing
for us. You've done us a great favor. You were here
when we needed you.' This was from guys who'd been
wounded! These were all big, tough Marines who'd been
through mortar fire and all the rest. It was a few minutes
before any of us could talk! "(2)

The fifth wave, which arrived in Lebanon on Septem-
ber 8, 1983, contributed even more valuable services as

119

the conflict continued to deteriorate. Joe Ciokin, who
served as the station manager, recalled that when they
volunteered, he and his men were aware that Beruit was a
"big-risk area." Nevertheless, he considered the struggle
there as one in which the "the factions were righting
among themselves and it was not really the Americans
who were the target. We were just mere as a peacekeep-
ing force and that was the uppermost thought in our
mind - peacekeeping." By the time his unit assembled in
Washington D.C for its predeparture briefing that
September, the Marines had come under increased attack.
Ciokin acknowledged that the escalating combat "caused
us some real concern. In fact, about four days before we
arrived, the Lebanese began the most intense hostile fire
of the period and it was to continue throughout our
tenure"(3)

As with the previous broadcast detachments, the fifth
wave took over operation of the station in less than a
day's time. Once in place, Ciokin and his men established
their own personality for the station while maintaining a
typical AFRTS operation on both radio and television.
Using the minicam equipment, Ciokin's men tried "to put
as many Marine faces on the tube as we could, just as a
morale-type thing. We ran the tapes after the network
evening news. Without any production facilities, how-
ever, we couldn't do any fancy stuff. We could do a kind
of cut-and-paste type thing with the shooting, but essen-
tially we just put it straight on, practically from the
camera." In addition, the station taped for later broad-
cast, press conferences and visits from such \TPs as Vice
President George Bush and Marine Commandant Genera!
PX Kelley.<4)

While the unit developed as normal a routine as
possible, Gokin worked on plans to move the station to
more secure quarters. He'd never been happy with the
location of the facilities, a feeling that his whole unit
shared. "The men's sleeping quarters were an open-air
tent We were out in the tree line and in between the BUT
(Battalion Landing Team) and the other buildings. We
were wide open to the highway. Anybody driving by
could've shot a B-40 rocket or something else at us point
blank. We felt very, very exposed being out there like
that. We had sandbags.'but that's about all the protection
we had!

"We needed a more secure installation especially- as
we were looking at it then, if we were in there for the long
haul. Then, definitely we wanted to get a more secure
site. And, of course, the engineers, being technical types,
were always looking for better environments for their
equipment. That added even more pressure to the need
for a permanent facility - " (5)

The Marines settled on the Lebanese Civil Aviation
Building as a practicable site After negotiations, they

reached an agreement to obtain sufficient space for the
station and quarters for the staff. On October 22, with
assistance from the Marines, Ciokin and his men moved
the van next to the building. They created a television
studio inside with sleeping accommodations across the
hall.

AFRTS' STAFFERS ESCAPE
CERTAIN DEATH

At 6:00 AM, the morning radio man, Bob Rucker,
signed on the air, cutting away from the AFRTS network
feed that ran when the station was not broadcasting
"live." After introducing the canned program, Rucker
went to shave. If the station had not moved the day
before, he'd have used a washbasin in one of the tents,
Instead he chose to use the facilities inside the building.
That's where he was when the suicide bomber drove his
truck into the Marine compound and exploded it inside
the barracks, killing two hundred and forty-one marines
and sailors!(6)

Rucker was briefly trapped when the ceiling came
down on him, jamming the door shut. Ciokin was blown
across the room because he was on the side closest to the
explosion. He and his roommate scrambled up and then
"hid under a table just like kids, thinking that we'd been
hit by artillery." Because of the earlier bombing of the
VS. Embassy and alerts the station had been receiving
every night, they soon realized what had happened.(7)

The blast knocked the radio station off the air and
extensively damaged the television equipment. However,
Ciokin's immediate reaction focused on the need to help
in the rescue operations, not the station.
"None of us gave it a second thought."
The move to the more secure location had saved all the
broadcasters' lives, although most suffered minor injuries.
Ciokin's men immediately joined the efforts to pull
survivors out of the destroyed building. Once the
immediate shock of the explosion passed, Ciokin realized
that enough rescuers had arrived. He collected his men
and set about to put the station back on the air,(8)

The staff needed a week to obtain necessary parts from
abroad to put TV back in operation. They were able to get
radio back on the air in five hours and began broadcast-
ing command information, providing a morale boost with
music and commentary. The programming had an
immediate impact.

"When the Marines were able to get out of the perim-
eter, which was almost the next day, the first thing they
told us was what it meant to them to hear radio come
backontheair. We were their beacon of hope. It told
them that we were surviving, that we were still alive!"(9)

Despite the tragedy, the station broadcast its regular
entertainment programming as soon as it returned to the

120

air. In the immediate post-explosion period, the station's
primary aim was to update the story as events took place

so that the Marines would know what was happening.

The station was fulfilling its mission under trying
circumstances in the best tradition of AFRTS. Yet, Ciokin
soon discovered the prograiruning was not having the
expected effect on morale. The fifth or sixth day after the
explosion, he ran into a Marine Sergeant Major who told
him, "You know*, we've gotta do something. Everybody's
walking around depressed. Everybody's down. We've
gotta do something to bring them back, to build up their
morale again and get them over this hump and revive
their spirits, so to speak."(10)

The station manager looked at the local programming
his staff was producing and suddenly realized that most
of the material they broadcast reflected his own men's
depression! "Everybody in the compound was walking
around like a bunch of zombies, our heads down, drag-
ging our feet. The radio station was doing the same thing.
All the stuff we were playing was heavy metal, bang,
crash, all that kind of stuff. It just was dark, depressive
music"

Ciokin discussed the low spirits with his staff and
worked with them to make the programming more
upbeat. "We played games with the Marines. There was
a Marine they called 'the Ugliest Marine in Lebanon.' We
played a joke on him. We also started getting into
birthdays and into plans for going home with an empha-
sis on how the Marines would overcome the prob-
lems."(ll)

The new prograrnming had an immediate impact. The
compound "began to turn around The Marines started
coming back at us the same way, joking at us, razzing us
when they saw us." To Ciokin, the post-explosion efforts
illustrated how any good broadcast operation had to "be
aware of the audience, respond to the audience's needs,
because you were going to create within the audience
certain responses." In his estimation, the station in Beruit
had accomplished the most "crucial" AFRTS job since
Vietnam, "obviously the most important. The mission
was the precise one for which AFRTS was created -
morale, information and news."(12)

ANOTHER UNIQUE TEST

Lebanon and Honduras provided unique tests for
AFRTS. It's success in earning out the mission validates
the effectiveness of the organization in preparing its
personnel for their jobs. Lebanon showed forth the true
commitment that armed forces broadcasters have for their
work and the audiences they serve. Yet, it may be that the
more "normal" station operation, in the end, confirms the
importance of the job which AFRTS has now accom-
plished for more than fifty years.

On April 1, 1985, General Robert Herres sent a telex to
AFIS from his command in Greenland regarding the

testing of SATNET service to Thule and ^ndrestrom. In
his message, the General advised: "I strongly request
immediate, permanent authority for transmission of live
AFRTS-TY SATNET Programming to Sondrestrom AB
and Thule AB, Greenland. Since signal testing began in
January, with live news and sports programming, there
has been a noticeable morale boost

"Discontinuing the service would significantly degrade
the Air Force 's vital internal information mission. It
would severely impact on troop morale and welfare. The
SATNET programming is essential for improving quality
of life and working conditions for our people at two of the
most remote, severe weather sites in the world. The
SATNET feed is their primary real-time contact with what
is happening in the outside world. Even 1 effort should be
made with FCC and other federal and commercial
agencies to insure continued AFRTS SATNET service for
Greenland."

Even' AFRT5 outlet has its unique set of problems and
fulfills the particular needs of the location and personnel
it serves. If the outlets maintain a commercial-like
operation with traditions developed over man}' years,
other stations such as in Beruit will come and go as our
forces deploy and then withdraw.

Following Ciokin's detachment, wave six arrived. It
quickly scaled down because of the concern for security
and the decision by the Marine Corps commander to
eliminate as many noncombatants as possible. The vans
and television equipment left Beruit along with the
Marine peacekeeping force.

AFRTS IN CENTRAL AMERICA

In Central .America, AFRTS has continued to provide
senice from Panama to Honduras. At the request of the
Southern Command, on October 3, 1983, Senior Chief
Bobbie Carleton and Master Chief David Rook helped put
together three mobile stations and fly them into Hondu-
ras. By that time, AFRTS radio and television had almost
become an accepted component in remote contingency
operations.

After accumulating the hardware and the support
equipment in Sacramento, Master Chief Rook led the
three teams into Honduras. There, Carleton set up two of
the three stations. She and Petty Officer First Class Ed
Fischer operated one of the radio and television outlets for
two months until the Army left that part of Honduras.
Each of the three stations seniced the three major concen-
trations of U.S. Forces conducting training and exercises
in the Central American country.

With agreements already negotiated with the govern-
ment, Carleton faced only one problem in putting the

121

station on the air in Puerta Castillo. She would have to
coordinate with the Army staff officers in selecting an
acceptable site. Carleton and her counterparts at the other
two locations had to deal with two chains of commands.
One was the Navy Broadcasting Service back in Arling-
ton, Virginia, and the other was with the local host
commander(13)

The operation of the Broadcasting Sendees presumed
to eliminate problems with the commanders in the field.
In practice, that didn't happen.

"It's a very difficult thing for a strange cat-and-dog
outfit like broadcasting to go into an operational environ-
ment where you're dealing with tank commanders and
pilots and combat warriors. Try to explain to them what
you're all about and have them understand. These are
the rifle<arryirig warriors. They see you as somebody
else to carry a rifle. They see you as somebody else to go
in there and augment their ground forces. These com-
manders sometimes have a tendency to meddle inappro-
priately. Some of it really isn't meddling. Some of it is
very appropriate. Sometimes our own people, our
broadcast people, can't deal with a commander, nor
recognize the difference between meddling and appropri-
ate involvement." (14)

In the end, as with Carleton in Honduras, the primary
AFRTS mission continues to serve the local commander
with command information directly over radio and TV.
Since the commander in the field remains the "opera-
tional" boss of the station in his area, managers have had
to devise ways to interface with the command. In
Carleton's case, it required working out decisions on the
entertainment material and the length of the broadcast
day. It meant developing with the commander "a
continuing kind of trust in me. The success of any of the
mobile detachments depends very heavily on such
interpersonal relations."(15)

These vignettes notwithstanding, it is dangerous to
compare the requirements of soldiers stationed in places
like Germany, Italy or Japan with situations in Beruit, or
in a remote radar site in Turkey, in the Sinai desert or in
Honduras. Yet, there is a common thread. Those mobile
stations that Carleton helped to put in operation clearly
provided crucial links to home They insured the dis-
semination of news and information and maintenance of
morale among their audiences. As Carleton noted, in a
place like Honduras, the "audience is absolutely captive.
When the BLT was blown up in Beruit, the entire encamp-
ment was staying around the station all the time- We
were their only fink to find out what was going on."

The operation in Honduras was the first time that
AFRTS followed the deployment of operational forces so
closely with stations. According to Carleton. the deploy-
ment "was an almost with "em situation... very much

worth the effort." The broadcasters, almost from the first
day, became "part of the outfits. Those men would have
bent over backwards for us. They wanted us there."
Once, when she had to shut down the radio transmissions
for a short time to install a TV antenna, she found the
whole camp outside the van. They all wanted to help her
get the job done so that the station could go back on the
air as soon as possible.(16)

Today these vans are gone but the station at
Palmerola/5ato Cano Air Base provides television and
FM radio services as part of the Southern Command
Network.

In Panama AFRTS would cover the first shooting war
since Vietnam. The months leading to the U.S. military
action in Panama, dubbed Operation Just Cause, were
filled with great uncertainty and anxiety for not only the
people of Panama, but for the leadership and crew of the
Southern Command Network (SCN).

The balloon went up for SCN on December 16th 1989
with the shooting death of Navy lieutenant Paz. How-
ever, due to the increasing tensions between the Panama
Defense Forces (PDF) and the U.S. military, a drawdown
of U-S. Forces and families and a shortening of military
tours from 36 to either 24 or 12 months had begun during
June 1989. .As a result, by December 16th, SCN had lost
about one third of its staff and many of those remaining
had less than 60 days on board. Additionally, both the
Program Director and the News Director were on emer-
gency leave in the U.S. during the initial period of Just
Cause. The success or failure of SCN's operations
depended on the Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Bob
Gaylord, and a relatively young, inexperienced staff.

Many preparations, however, had already been
accomplished prior to this date to include the
prepositioning of backup equipment in case the fixed
facilities at Fort Gayton were damaged or destroyed.
LTC Gaylord called' together all section supervisors on
December 19th to increase the network's operational
readiness. The SCN mobile van was deployed to Quarry
Heights, headquarters of the U.S. Southern Command, to
establish a backup microwave link to SCN and an
engineer was dispatched to the main Pacific side transmit-
ter and microwave relay site on Ancon Hill, just above
Quarry Heights.

As the time for combat action drew near, electronic
news gathering (ENG) teams were formed and deployed
to various locations. An SCN news team covered the
midnight swearing-in of President Endara and the
Panamanian government which had been democratically
elected in May but not allowed to take office by General
Manuel Noriega and his PDF.

Once hostilities commenced during the early morning
hours of December 20th, SCN, using its mobile van and

ENG teams, supported the Pentagon Media Pool as well
as its own broadcasts with video and audio of the deploy-
ment of both in-country as well as US. based forces.
Using its microwave antenna, the news video and audio
was fed by the van to a sateUite uplink back to the VS.
and to the SCN studios at Fort Clayton. In coordination
with the Public Affairs Office of the Southern Command,
5CN began a continuous feed of local announcements
and reports, and provided all available stateside media
coverage. This kept rumors at bay, provided up-to-date
information on local personnel movement limitations,
and provided continuous news coverage of combat and
political activity.

With the help of reports provided by the U.S. media,
especially the Cable News Network, which were received
bv SCN's 11 meter programmable satellite antenna, the
American audience was never out-of-touch with the
action in Panama, and with the stateside and worldwide
reaction to Operation Just Cause. In fact, SCN was the
only radio or television station on-the-air in the Panama
City and Canal Area during the first days of action. It
became clear later that most of the people in Panama;
American, Panamanian, and other nationals, were tuned-
in to SCN sometime during those days of crisis.

The staff of SCN became combat hardened broadcast-
ing veterans during Operation just Cause. Their can-do
attitude and physical stamina kept them going for 48 and
even 72 hours straight without sleep or rest. Colonel
Gaylord and his staff succeeded against the odds. A full,
detailed story of their experiences and accomplishments
was written by Air Force Master Sergeant Bob Autry, who
was the supervisor of broadcast operations for SCN
during this period, and published by the Army under the
title '7ust Another Day in Paradise - AFRTS in a Combat
Environment".

OPERATIONS DESERT SHIELD
AND DESERT STORM

Within three days of Iraq's invasion of Kuwait on
August 2, 1990, the Navy Broadcasting Service, as the
AFRTS worldwide contingency mission operator, began
preparations for deployment of its four contingency
broadcast vans to the Persian Gulf area. Within a few
davs AFIS advised the US. Central Command
(CENTCOM) of the AFRTS capabilities and assets
available for support of the troops being deployed to
Saudi Arabia and the Persian Gulf. At the same time,
Navy Broadcasting took the initiative to preposition two
of the vans at Manama, Bahrain.

By September 5th, only a month after President Bush
had ordered the first deployment of U.S. troops to the
Persian Gulf area, one of the vans was on-the-air with low
powered FM broadcasts at King Fahd International

Airport near Dhahran, Saudi Arabia, and within a week,
two more vans were broadcasting at Al Jubayl and
Riyadh. All of these operations, however, operated
strictly in a test mode because official approval by
CENTCOM was not given until September 19th.

During October, three of the vans, Dhahran, Riyadh,
and Al Jubayl began 24-hour local radio services and
began limited television service using low-powered
transmitters earning the SATNET programming. The
first crews for these stations were volunteers from APRTS
facilities throughout the world. The first 17 had been
assigned to Saudi Arabia on 90-day temporary duty
orders and bv December they were being replaced by the
second shift of broadcasters and technicians. However,
the toughest tasks, that of putting these vans on-the-air in
the extreme heat and sand of the desert, had been
accomplished well and with great speed.

With the decision by the President in late November to
build-up the U.S. forces in Saudi Arabia, a small AFRTS
headquarters became necessary for establishing a net-
work organization using the existing manned stations
and dozens of unmanned low powered transmitters
picking-up the signals from the manned locations.
Lieutenant Colonel Bob Gaylord, fresh from his experi-
ence with Operation Just Cause in Panama, was sent by
AFIS to command the new network, with Air Force
Captain, Jeff Whirled, as his deputy, and Sergeant Major
Bob Nelson as his senior noncommissioned officer. A
fourth manned station began full broadcast radio and
television operations at King Khalid Military City on
December 10th.

The Desert Shield Network's (after January 17, 1991 to
be called the Desert Storm Network) toughest task was to
find locations for putting-up its many antennas. The one
thing that AFRTS did not have available immediately
was enough portable and transportable towers to cover
such a wide area with low-powered radio and television.
After all, the network had to cover a part of Saudi Arabia
equal to the area between Illinois, Maine and Virginia.
Due to the diligence and ingenuity of its technicians, and
much help from the Arab and American Oil Company
(ARAMCO), antennas were placed on everything from
existing communications towers to soccer field light
towers.

By the time the air war started on January 17, 1991 the
network had grown from 17 to more than 50 staffers. Of
these, 21 came from the Army's 209th Broadcast Public
Affairs Detachment (BPAD),'a reserve component unit
located in Rome, Georgia. With the BPAD came two of
the Army's mobile radio broadcast vans which gave the
network'additional production capability for supporting
the growing demand for spot announcements, and as
contingency in case one of the Navy vans became

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inoperable or if the network had to move or expand. Also
with the onset of the shooting war, the network began its
own local newscasts. The finished news programs were
telephoned back to AFRTS-BC in Los Angeles, and from
there broadcast on the worldwide AFRTS satellite system.
Since the newscasts were produced at the network
headquarters in Riyadh but the other stations were not
connected by dedicated broadcast quality communication
this procedure made it possible for all the outlets in the
CENTCOM theater to pick-up the newscasts via satellite.
The amount and length of news programs from the
stateside national networks were also increased. Months
after the shooting had stopped in early March, the
network stations were finally connected to the headquar-
ters, by then moved to Dhahran, with broadcast quality
communications.

Meanwhile, on February 11th, the Air Force Broadcast-
ing Service had assumed operational control of the
network. The Navy's charter as the AFRTS contingency
operator was for six months, and since at that time no one
knew how long the war was going to last, it became
necessary for the permanent geographic area manager,
the Air Force, to take over. The network's name was
changed to the Armed Forces Desert Network (AFDN)
and Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Randy Morger took
over from Bob Gaylord as network commander. At this
point the network was serving nearly half a million troops
in the desert!

On March 4th, after the liberation of Kuwait had been
completed, a two person advanced team arrived in
Kuwait City to arrange lor broadcasts to US forces in
Kuwait and southern Iraq. They were followed the next
day by a nine member team with one of the Army vans.
Broadcasting began on March 6th from the American
Embassy grounds. A couple of days later the station
moved to a US. camp near the international airport and
on March 10th a 5000-watt transmitter began rebroadcast-
ing the station signal which now reached all of Kuwait
and southern Iraq.

From March through the end of 1991, AFDN contin-

ued 24-hour manned operations with emphasis on
command information for the troops redeploying back
stateside or Europe, and planning commenced for even-
tual unmanned broadcast services for the small residual
force that was to remain in Saudi Arabia and Kuwait.
During July, Air Force Captain Mark Davidson took over
command of AFDN with his number one mission being
the closing down of all manned operations and the
redeployment of most of the equipment. On January 17,
1992, AFDN ceased all manned operations and turned
over the remaining satellite delivered radio and television
broadcasting systems and equipment to a contractor for
maintenance. The history of AFDN had been short but
not since the Battle of Britain during the beginning of
World War Two could it be said that in war so few had
done so much for so many in such little time.

NOTES - CHAPTER 25

(1) Interview with John Burlage, November 25, 1985;
Interview with Robert Nash, May 13, 1983.

(2) Burlage Interview.

(3) Interview with Master Chief Joe Ciokin,
November 15, 1985.

(4) Ibid

(5) Ibid.

(6) Ibid.

(7) Ibid.

(8) Ibid.
! (9) Ibid.

j (10) Ibid.
I (11) Ibid.

I (12) Ibid; Interview with Robert Jordan,
September 26, 1985.

(13) Interview with Bobbie Carleton, December 9, 1985.

(14) Ibid.

(15) Ibid.

(16) Ibid.

CHAPTER 26

AN ASSESSMENT

No organization can be expected to run perfectly over
the short term - let alone for fifty years. The Armed
Forces Radio and Television Service is not an exception.
Nevertheless, looking back over its existence, AFRTS does
seem to have come closer to fulfilling its total mission
than many other government organizations - civilian or
military. Many ingredients help explain why it's opera-
tion continues to be so effective Central to it stands the
legacy of the guidelines established at the birth of AFRTS.

These guidelines grew out of the broadcast experience
that Tom Lewis and his original staff acquired from their
civilian radio days. They proved equally effective in a
military setting. More important, over the vears, the early
directives remained foundational That kept the organi-
zation from stagnating or losing its direction and purpose.

The guidelines also provided AFRTS with the flexibil-
ity* of operation, as it endeavored to meet new challenges
within a myriad of drcumstances. The United States
Armed Services at various times acted as a fighting force,
an occupying Army or a peacekeeping organization.
Those guidelines enabled the organization to incorporate
quickly into its missions not only new challenges but new
technologies as well. These ranged from various new
recording techniques to, most recently, the use of satellite
transmission.

Throughout the changes that have taken place, AFRTS
has remained a military agency, firmly under the control
of the armed forces. As history showed, military regula-
tion oftimes occurred to a limited degree in the wartime
Hollywood headquarters. History also showed that
when it combined with the creative chaos required to
produce radio programs, it generated what some would
call a "special" atmosphere. A tradition developed in
which the staff felt an "military" commitment to their
audiences, together with a "professional" excitement
toward their mission. From deep inside patriotic souls,
they gave, selflessly.

Over time, that commitment reached into every
network and independent station. It created a dedication
among the broadcasters to give their listeners the best
possible service - often under trying and even dangerous
circumstances.

AFRTS simply hasn't had the resources to acquire
every new piece of equipment that came on the market
Despite such practical problems, they've always managed
to provide whatever's needed to service American forces

worldwide. The "show went on," whether on an Army
base in the heart of Germany, aboard a submarine on
patrol, under fire in Viet Nam or Lebanon, in the jungles

of Honduras or the hot sands of Kuwait and Operation
Desert Storm. More to the point are the broadcast
packages. In World War II, they produced "Command
Performance" and "Mail Call." Today, they present
"Charlie Tuna" or 'Don Tracy" on Radio and "60
Minutes" and "Rosanne" on TV. Through it all, the radio
and television weekly shipments have broadcast top-
quality shows, just like the troops would find if they were
listening to the radio or watching TV back home.

Perhaps more than any other nation, the United States
has, since the Minutemen of Lexington and Concord,
viewed its men and women in uniform as citizens first
and soldiers second. As civilian-soldiers, our troops have
always participated in the election of their Commander-
in-Chief even in the midst of a conflict. Thus, if s only
natural that the nation has continued to make a significant
effort to keep them informed and to show concern for
their morale

In bringing Frank Capra and then Tom Lewis into the
service in those formative earlv days, General Marshall
predestined that the broadcast media should provide
education and information to the troops. He believed that
they should understand the purpose for which they were
going to fight. To carry out this charge, Lewis, the
broadcasting genius that he was, knew that he had to
attract the attention of his audience before he could
present the military's message. That spawned the
entertainment side of military broadcasting, and the
resultant effect on improving morale. Critical to that
mission, the messages of bom 'T and E" and entertain-
ment (morale) should be presented on the air "by enlisted
men primarily for enlisted men."

With his background in commercial radio, Lewis
likewise insisted that the entertainment programming
should provide "a little bit of home." It should duplicate
the same broadcast pastime that the men arid women had
back there. To maintain the audience, Lewis saw the need
to establish credibility in the operation. Though he had to
fight to accomplish it, he mandated that the news should
be presented without bias or censorship. He also directed
that the "\ and E" components should keep the troops
aware of developments back home. That would prepare
them for their eventual return to civilian life.

These are the tenets of Armed Forces Radio and
Television Service, as it evolved over fifty years, and as it
stands today.

Over the years AFRTS has continued to follow these
goals. The guidelines and philosophy have remained
operable despite the changing times and circumstances in
which American troops have found themselves.

125

One of the most amazing aspects of the organization's
operation remains its ability to obtain radio and television
frequencies in foreign countries. They negotiated with
the BBC in '43. They fought through oral agreements
with the Thai government. They held long discussions
with Turkish officials. Through it all, AFRTS managed to
gain permission and access to the airwaves in virtually
every country hosting American troops.

Whatever the challenges and obstacles, AFRTS has
survived. It has maintained its credibility. That's because
the upper echelon has recognized how important the
broadcast medium has become in providing information
and news to the American troops in the field. Within the
organization, the broadcasters, technicians and engineers
have developed an esprit de corps and commitment to their
audiences. This has enabled AFRTS to continue opera-
tions despite often limited resources and natural or man-
made disasters. Always, the primary concern has re-
mained the goal of providing service to its audience.

AFRTS has provided an even broader legacy, one
which has benefited the entire nation and will continue to
do so. From the end of World War H to the present,
former AFRTS staffers have formed the very backbone of
the American (civilian) radio and television industry-
Many of these people had significant broadcast experi-
ence before joining the military, as did many of those who
served during World War EL Others, particularly in the

1950s and 1960s, joined AFRTS soon after beginning
careers in radio or television. They were able to polish
their skills in the service before returning to commercial
broadcasting. Still others spent most or all of their
military careers working their way up through the ranks
of AFRTS. learning all aspects of the broadcasting busi-
ness. After retirement, those vets accepted positions at
commercial or public radio and television stations. Their
experiences in the AFRTS enriched their post-war broad-
cast work on the civilian side. In doing so, they performed
for the nation's listening and viewing audiences for years
to come.

It's been a glorious history. A proud history, of
dedication, of traditions and selfless sendee. A tradition
and service for which some gave the ultimate sacrifice-
Through all the need, all the creativity, all the giving, all
the work, all the struggle, it's been a history rewarded.

Trie Armed Forces Radio and Television Service reflects
fifty years of devotion, from a crude crystal set in Alaska
to a world-encompassing state-of-the-art operation.
Today, as five decades ago, thousands upon thousands of
soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines still echo to them,
the compliment of their forefathers:

"Thanks, for bringing us '...a little bit of home.' "

Stay tuned for the next fifty years!

- 30 --

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